IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


</ 


// 


o 


z^ 


4*     MJ)    ^     ///// 


'^  M?.. 


t 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


j50  

It  1^ 


1.4 


M 

2.2 
ZO 

1.6 


>v 


.^3 


^a 


# 


■^^V 
^ 


^ 


/ 


^-^ 


Photograpliic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


d 


-b 


•^ 


\Ni> 


<v 


<x 


% 


V 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


■A.      .#% 


6^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVl/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions 


Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notos/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


D 


D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagde 


□    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurdc  et/ou  pellicul6e 

□    Cover  title  missing/ 
Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  H'Stortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  Cbrtaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  ie  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmdes. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possiL!e  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  methods  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


n 

n 
n 

D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag§es 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  cr  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcolordes,  tachotdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

Only  edition  avai'able/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film^es  d  nouveau  de  facon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


D 


Additional  comments:/ 
Comrnentaires  suppldmentaires: 


nl 


This  item  is  filmed  at:  the  reduction  re  Jo  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  induction  indiqud  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

r" 

y 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  filmd  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
gdndrositd  de: 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  micro  Tiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  --^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6td  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compie  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet<§  de  l'exemplaire  filmd,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimde  sont  filmds  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustratior,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmds  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ♦-  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,   «-..v  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  ir.'u:~3      o  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposui^  .  le  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  K^ft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film^s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
i-eproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  Tangle  s  jpdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

"■■"    '■ 
2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

/ 


r  M  !^     i 


V   ')UO\  8 


iTTTir    .     I  FOFA^na 


i/* 


^'    Til  DIAN 


SE\ 


iiATHA^*AY. 


''Th»y  wteic  i»,  »y., 
iri  vh«  u.u-ui  Boo:> 
And  fittt  ihev  folli>  -  *.  ».  •  41 

Tlh 
At 


^y. 


c  a:  i  y. 


f 

V 

/ 


I 


THE  LEAGUE 


or 


TPIE  IKOQUOIS, 


AND 


OTHER  LEGEISTDS. 


FROM  THE  INDIAN  MUSE, 


BY 


BENJAMIN    HATHAWAY. 


"They  waste  i»;  aye,  like  April  snow 
In  the  Mrarm  noon,  we  shrink  away, 
And  fa^t  they  follow  aa  we  go 

Towards  tlie  setting  day, 
Till  they  shail  till  the  land,  and  we 
Are  driven  into  the  western  sea." 


Bbviht. 


CHICAGO: 
8.   C.   GRIGGS   AND   COMPANY, 

1883. 


H3L^ 


All  Souls,  howcvLT  small  or  great, 
Through  knowledge  find  their  use  and  place: 
Make  Thou,  to  olden  crimes  eflface, 

This  least  return,  O  Sovereign  State! 
Unto  a  wronged— a  noble  Kace. 

So  shall  they  strong  In  Virtue  stand. 
Your  honored  peers;  as  wise,  as  free. 
As  loyal,  brave: — nor  longer  be 

But  aliens  in  their  Father-Land, 
But  debtors  to  your  Charity, 


PiiKss  OP  Donnelley,  Oasskttk  a  Loyd. 


Co^mIG^TET>,  1880,  by  Benjamin  Hathaway. 


TO     MY     WIFE. 


The  Wife,  if  gifted  in  all  household  ways 
Where  Home  has  fair  its  sacred  altar  reared, 
Is  tvorthi/  of  all  praise  — 
Aye  !  precious,  far  beyond  all  treasure,  is 
The  heart  that  makes  the  hearthstone  lore-endeared 
With  gentle  ministries. 


Yet  hoir  much  more  is  honor  due — if  aught 
Be  due  to  love  — /o  Thee— her,  who   like  thee, 
In  realms  of  Mind  hath  sought 
A  wider  province  for  her  wifely  part; 
0  Wife  and  Friend  in  one!  —  whose  ministry 
Is  to  both  mind  and  heart. 


Therefore  the  Poet  brings  this  tribute  meet; 
Trusting  that  Hope  will  true  her  promise  keep: 
Who  in  the  noon-day  heat 
Together  stand  to  sow  Life's  fallow  lea 
With  Thought  and  Deed,  —  that  they  together  reap 
The  Harvest  yet  to  be. 


II^TEODUOTIOK. 


TT  is  to  the  Mythologies  of  the  primitive  races  that 
J-  we  are  to  look  for  the  expression  of  the  earliest  poetic, 
religious  and  philosophic  thought  of  Mankind. 

While  the  Folk-lore  of  the  Old  World  has  long  been 
made  the  subject  of  research  and  poetic  elaboration,  the 
Mythology  of  the  North  American  Indians  has  received 
comparatively  little  attention. 

What  the  Eddas  were  to  Scandinavian  Europe;  what 
the  Greek  Mythology  was  to  the  Hellenic  mind  ;  what 
the  story  of  IJuddha,  with  all  its  clustering  fables,  is 
to  Hindoo  and  Mongolian;  what  the  teachings  of  Christ 
are  to  the  Christian  world,—  the  revelation,  in  some  sort, 
of  a  divine  love  and  wisdom,  around  which  gather  the 
deepest  aifections,  the  purest  hopes  and  aspirations  of  the 
human  soul;  — such,  undoubtedly,  were  to  the  Ked  Men 
the  body  of  their  myths  and  legends,  of  which  but  a 
meager  store  has  been  left  to  us. 

There  is  in  these  fragmentary  traditions  abundant  evi- 
dence that  they  are  the  architecture  of  a  religion,  a  part 
of  the  world's  sacred  literature —  the  Scriptures  of  the 
Ages;  scattered  rays  of  Divine  Truth  come  down  from 
above,  clothed  in  such  imagery  as  the  then  development 
of  the  Race  made  possible  of  apprehension. 


VI 


INTltODUCTION 


In  the  broader  light  of  a  universal  interpretation  we 
see  in  these  h'gends  tlie  essentials  of  all  Kdigious  truth; 
the  idea  of  God,  of  immortality  and  an  eternal  world;  the 
recognition  of  good  and  evil;  and  in  some  form,  howcer 
imperfect,  the  same  injunctions  and  roiiuiremcnts  that 
are  the  burden  of  the  Ciiristian  Bible;  and  though  their 
standard  is  not  our  standard,  they  show  that  even  the 
Savage  may  perceive  somewhat  of  the  inevitable  deformity 
of  Vice  and  the  infinite  beauty  of  Virtue. 

Though  in  many  forms  and  with  a  great  diversity  of 
detail,  one  central  legend  underlies  the  whole  system  of 
Indian  Mythology.  Under  various  names,  as  that  of  Mica- 
bou,  Chi-a-bo,  Manabo-zho,  Ta-ren-ya-wa-go  and  Ha-yo- 
went-ha,  are  rehearsed  the  marvelous  achievements  of  one 
and  the  same  remarkable  ix'rsonngo;  tiie  centr-il  idea  in 
each  being  that  of  a  Divine  Man;  one  of  miraculous  ])irth 
and  superhuman  attributes  sent  among  the  Indians  from 
the  Great  Spirit.  He  subdues  the  monsters  of  the  forest 
and  the  rivers;  he  teaches  the  Red  Men  to  use  the  bow 
and  arrow  in  war  and  in  the  chase,  to  build  their  wig- 
wams, to  grow  corn  and  beans,  and  to  be  noble  and  brave. 


Whether  or  not,  at  some  remote  period,  there  eristed 
among  them  one  of  wonderful  powers,  answering  in  any 
degree  to  the  idea  in  the  Indian  mind,  it  is  not  important 
to  inquire.  That  such  was  the  fact  seems  not  improbable, 
as  will  leadily  be  conceded  by  those  who  hold  the  belief 
in  any  divine  interposition  in  the  affairs  of  men.  Those 
who  accept  the  teaching  that  Christ  had  a  divinely  ap- 
pointed mission  to  the  world,  will  not  find  it  Iiard  to 
believe  that  the  Infinite  would  send  a  messenger  of  life 
and  light  to  the  benighted  Children  of  the  Wilderness  as 
well  as  to  the  more  enlightened  Race. 


INTIIODTCTIOX. 


Vll 


It  would  be  interesting  to  point  out  the  coincidencos 
between  the  miracles  wrought  by  the  Great  Teacher  and 
those  ascribed  to  theso  Heathen  Divinities.  Christ  wallccd 
upon  the  water;  Ha-yo-went-ha's  canoe  went  without 
paddles.  Christ  raised  the  dead;  Manabo-/ho  had  a  like 
power  over  the  (je-hi,  or  departed  si)irit.  Christ  multi- 
plied the  loaves  and  fishes  to  feed  the  multitude;  their 
Manitoes  could  create  abundance  in  seasons  of  want.  Tlus 
pa:-allel  might  be  still  i'urther  extended;  nor  would  the 
comi)arison  make  all  the  so-called  niiracles  seem  less,  but 
more,  as  being  the  result  of  a  universal  law  that  nuikes 
like  mavvels  possible,  at  all  times,  and  among  all  men  ; 
at  least, —  that  causes  like  beliefs  in  them  to  take  root 
among  peoples  widely  diverse. 

In  whatever  light  they  may  be  read,  these  legends  will 
have  a  growing  interest,  as  being  the  onlv  records  of  the 
faith  of  a  fast-passing  race;  and  as  the  truest  index  of  the 
inner  life  of  a  people  that  possessed  noble  traits,  which 
it  will  Ite  well  to  remember  and  cherish. 


If  the  White  Race,  possessed  of  all  the  advantages  of 
civilization,  ai-e  to  be  judged  by  their  highest  attainments 
in  Art,  Science,  Literature  and  the  noblest  examples  of 
character  that  they  have  developed,  surely  the  unlettered 
dwellers  in  the  forest  should  not  be  subjected  to  a  more 
rigorous  rule.  If  Cicero  was  in  anv  sense  the  heiffht  of 
Rome,  then  the  eloquence  of  a  Gar-an-gu-la,  a  Sa-go-ye- 
wat-ha  and  a  Sken-an-do  should  be  taken  as  the  measure 
of  the  Indian's  intellectual  attainments.  The  same  rule 
should  apply  in  regard  to  other  qualities,  as  the  love  of 
freedom,  the   power   of  endurance,  of  self-sacrifice   and 


courage. 


Vill 


INTRODUCTION. 


These  characteristics,  that  were  so  striking!}'  exhibited 
by  the  more  warlike  of  the  Tndian  race,  and  that  were 
possessed  in  common  by  many  of  the  northern  tribes, 
reached  in  the  Iroquois  their  highest  expression  and  finest 
exemplification. 

"  The  Iroquois  is  the  Indian  of  Indians,"  says  Park- 
man.  "  In  this  remarkable  family  of  tribes  occur  the 
fullest  development  of  Indian  character,  and  the  most 
conspicuous  examples  of  Indian  intelligence." 

Previous  to  the  discovery  of  the  Continent  by  Colum- 
bus the  scattered  tribes  had  joined  themselves  together  in 
a  League  of  Alliance,  the  principles  of  which  have  been 
the  wonder  of  philosophers,  and  with  a  governmental 
polity  that  has  won  the  admiration  of  statesmen. 

Of  the  date  of  the  confederacy  of  the  Five  Nations  — 
the  great  Aquan-usclii-oni  League  —  there  can  be  only 
conjectiire.  The  native  historian,  David  Cusic,  gives  a 
chronology  of  thirteen  successions  of  chiefs  before  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  White  Man.  There  is  probably  in  this 
record  an  element  of  truth;  all  that  is  certainly  known, 
however,  is  that  tliese  uncivilized  tribes,  banded  together 
for  a  common  end  of  protection  and  defense,  and  not 
always  in  accord,  surrounded  by  other  tribes  more  savage 
than  themselves,  with  only  the  bow  and  arrow  and  the 
rudest  implements  of  warfare,  not  only  held  together  for 
hundreds  of  years,  but  steadily  grew  in  strength,  intelli- 
gence, material  comforts  and  social  amenities. 


Mr.  Morgan  says,  in  his  League  of  the  Iroquois:  "  They 
achieved  for  themselves  a  more  remarkable  civil  organiza- 
tion, and  acquired  a  higher  degree  of  influence,  than  any 
other  race  of  Indian  lineage,  except  those  of  Mexico  and 


INTEODUCTTON. 


IX 


Peru.  In  the  drama  of  European  colonization  they  stood 
for  nearly  two  centuries  with  an  unshaken  front  against 
the  devastations  of  war,  the  blighting  infiuence  of  foreign 
intercourse,  and  the  still  more  fatal  encroachments  of  a 
restless  and  advancing  border  po})ulation.  Under  their 
federal  system  the  Iroquois  tiourished  in  independence,  and 
capable  of  self-protection,  long  after  the  New  England  and 
Virginia  races  had  surrendered  their  jurisdictions,  and 
fallen  into  the  condition  of  dependent  nations;  and  they 
now  stand  forth  upon  the  canvas  of  Indian  history,  prom- 
inent alike  for  the  wisdom  of  their  civil  institutions,  their 
sagacity  in  the  administration  of  the  League,  and  tiieir 
courage  in  its  defense." 

Though  to-day  there  remains  only  a  remnant  of  the 
once  proud  and  powerful  Iroquois  Confederation;  though 
it  paled  and  waned  before  the  mighty  tide  of  the  White 
Toilers;  it  has  left  a  name  that  shall  not  be  blotted  out 
while  the  love  of  liberty  remains,  and  the  voice  of  elo- 
quence has  power  to  move  the  hearts  of  men. 


In  the  following  poem  the  writer  has  aimed  to  give, 
in  an  intimately  related  series  of  pictures,  the  story,  as 
embodied  in  the  Iroquois  tradition,  of  the  origin  of  tl»j 
Confederation,  and  especially  all  that  relates  to  the  part 
the  great  personage  of  Indian  Mythology — Ha-yo-went- 
ha  —  took  in  the  formation  of  the  League;  a  league  all 
the  more  wonderful,  originating,  as  it  did,  among  savage 
tribes,  whose  literature  was  confined  to  oral  traditions 
and  picture-writing;  and  whose  arts  were  bounded  by  the 
bow  and  arrow,  nide  stone  implements,  the  dressing  of 
skins  and  their  manufacture  into  clothing,  and  to  the 
growing,  in  the  most  primitive  manner,  of  a  few  products 
of  the  soil. 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


Whatever  of  thought,  of  feeling  or  belief  the  author 
has  embodied  in  the  League  of  the  Iroquois,  he  holds  to 
be  but  the  legitimate  interpretation  of  the  customs  and 
legends  in  which  he  finds  alike  the  subject  for  his  pen  and 
the  inspiration  of  his  Muse.  If  he  has  softened  and  modi- 
fied their  formrs  as  they  existed  in  a  rude  barbarous  age,  it 
is  but  in  keeping  with  a  well  recognized  license,  without 
which  any  original,  poetic  treatment  of  his  subject  would 
be  impossible. 

Instead  of  following  to  the  letter  any  one  form  of  the 
story,  he  has  chosen  rather  to  take  from  several  their 
poetic  features;  or,  when  departing  from  them  all,  he  has 
still  endeavored  to  keep  true  to  their  spirit, —  to  the 
highest  conce})tions  of  the  Indian  mind.  And  that  he 
might  write  a  poem  that  should  be  recognized  as  true 
to  nature,  not  alone  as  the  Wliite  Man  understands 
nature,  he  has  sought  to  invoke  a  Muse  that  could  see  as 
the  Red  Man  saw,  could  feel  as  he  felt;  and  that  could  — 
so  far  as  the  impediments  of  language  will  permit  —  in- 
terpret to  us  the  facts  and  experiences  of  the  nujrveU:)us 
world  in  which  the  Indian  dwells. —  one  that  will  be  found 
to  be,  nevertheless,  a  very  human  world. 


CONTENTS. 


r»  PAGE 

Dedication, 

III. 

Intkoduction, 

V. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Chapter    I.    Proem,    .... 

-       -       8 

II.  The  Fore-Workd, g 

III.  The  Coming  of  Hayo-went-ha,  -       -       -      27 

IV.  The  Wondrous  Deeds.     -       .       .       .         37 
V.  Hayo.wknt-ha'8  Journeying,     -       .       .49 

VI.    Song  op  Hayo-went-ha,         -       -       -         59 

VII.      NyaH-TAII-WANTA, QQ 

"        VIII.    The  Wooing,      ... 

'       *       -         00 

IX.    SonoopJS'yahtah-nvanta,  -       -       •      97 

X.    The  Bridal,      ...  ,., 

XI.    The  After  Days ... 

XII.    The  Council.     .       . 

"       -       -       -        135 

XIII.  Speech  OP  Hayo-went-ha,  .       .       .    jgy 

XIV.  Hayo-went-ha's  Mourning,    -       -       .        103 

XV.    The  League, 

-    171 

"         XVL  The  Feast.        ----..        igg 

XVII.  Hayo-went-ha's  Parting  Words,      .       .    195 

XVIII.  Hayo-went-ha's  Departure,  .       .       2OS 

XIX.  The  Broken  Heart,    .       .  «,„ 

XX  The  Better  Land, 225 


_,,  CONTENTS. 

Xll 

MISOELLAl^EOUS. 

'  PAQE. 

-    239 
WINONA,  -••''" 

THE  GREAT  SNAKE  OF  CANANDAIGUA. 

[A   SENECA   TRADITION. 1 

CHAP.     I.    OBiaiN  OF  THE  Seneca  Nation,        .       - 

u        II     The  GnEAT  Snake,  -       -       *       " 

.       -    201 
'•      III.    The  Battle,        .       -       -       - 

.       .       266 
u       IV.    The  Victouy,  -       -       -       " 

.       .       -   271 
THE  SHINING  MAN ITO,  -       -       - 

.       .       274 
THE  FLOOD,      ----"" 

278 
OIIIGIN  OF  THE  RED  WILLOW, 

281 
THE  BEAR-WIFE,     -       - 

-    288 
SHIN-GE-BIS,        -       -       -       •       • 

291 
SPEECH  OF  ME-TEY-A, 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  HUNTER  RACE,    .       .       -       -    ^^ 

299 

Notes,      - .317 

Vocabulary, 


PRINCIPAL  PERSONS. 


PRONOUNCED 

IIayO-WENT-UA.      (Hayu-zvent-hii) 


The  ^reat  Mytholoa^ical 
Hero  ot  the  Iroquois/  The 
\  founder  of  the  League. 

NYAii-TAU-WANTA/i\V.a//./a7,.a,a«/<i-/  3  ,   Siiii  If  of  the  Great  Spir- 

-^  {  It.  Bride  of  Hayo-went-ha. 

iAiAXAiJO-ziio.         (Man-a  M-zhoJ 


Manito. 
I X  mo  pro. 
Oway-neo. 

OSSEO. 


(Man -i -to) 
(In-i-gd-ri  o) 
CO-way-ne-oJ 
(Os-si-o) 
(0-we-tie^J 


(     The  irrcat  ISIvthological 
(  Hero  of  the  Algonqu'ins. 

Guardian  Spirit. 

The  Good  Mind. 

The  Great  Spirit, 

A  famous  Magician. 

Bride  of  Osseo. 


OWENEE. 

SCEKE.      Onondaga  and  the  Lake  Region  of  Central  New  Yorlc. 


Ill  I.. 


THE  LEAGUE 


OK    T  H  K 


IROQUOIS. 


■Mill 


Seen  from  afar  the  rude  barbaric  years 
Are  dark  toith  blood  and  rapine,  wrong  and  crime, 

Wherein  alone  the  Sarage  Man  appears  ; 
Yet  near  beheld,  from  the  remotest  time 

A  human  soul  dwelt  in  each  stalwart  form, 
And  Beauty's  smile  a  grace  to  Woman  lent ; 

Throbbed  human  hearts  with  human  passions  warm, 
Though  sheltered  by  the  wigtvam's  barky  tent. 


\\  ! 


I 


PROEM. 

No  more  — alas  !  why  still  recall 
What  to  the  Past  must  still  belong  ? 

No  more -what  other  word  can  fall 
To  make  a  fuller  sorrow -song  ? 

No  more  return  the  days  gone  by; 
The  troubled  winds,  with  ceaseless  inoan, 

In  sough  and  sob,  in  wail  and  sigh, 
Still  blend  their  anguish  with  my  own. 


In  vain  the  aching  breast  enfolds 
Each  scene  it  may  no  longer  see, 

Save  that  some  drops  of  comfort  holds 
The  hallowed  urn  of  memory. 

Though  vain  we  mourn  a  glory  fled  — 
The  fairest  forms  no  longer  foir, 

A  cheerful  song  for  loved  ones  dead 
May  win  us  from  more  fell  despair. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 


ill! 


I  thread  the  forest  lone.     I  wait 
Where  once  your  sheltering  wigwams  stood, 

Bewailing  your  untimely  fate, 
My  People  of  the  wild  and  wood. 

No  more  as  in  the  olden  days   - 
Shall  here  your  hunter- how  be  hent, 

A\  here,  learned  in  nature's  simi)le  ways,  . 
You  dwelt  in  lowly  life  content. 

0  fallen  Braves  !  forevermore 
Yon  crystal  Hoods  that  leap  and  toss, 

Shall  wail  along  their  saddened  shore, 
Dei)loring  so  love's  olden  loss. 

While  rolling  suns  shall  ])urn  and  glow, 
The  seasons  crown  the  waiting  years, 

The  fairest  Summer's  cheek  shall  show 
Some  grief- betokening  trace  of  tears. 

No  pilgrim   wind  that  homeless  sings 
But  murmurs  of  departed  braves  ; 

No  zephyr  o'er  the  wild  that  wings 
But  lingers  by  forgotten  graves. 

Soft  through  the  twilight's  silver  sheen, 
Methinks  the  glimmering  stars  above 

Far  shining  in  the  blue  serene, 
Bend  low  with  pitying  eyes  of  love. 


And  often  to  my  tearful  eye, 
When  yonder  orbs  grow  dim  and  pale, 

Tall,  painted,  sable  forms  go  by, 
And  on  the  night -winds  shriek  and  wail. 

Oh  !  dusky  shades  do  verily  haunt 
The  failing  ground  on  which  I  tread  ; 

Or  ouc  of  love's  un weaning  want 
Is  born  a  semblance  of  the  dead. 

And  once  familiar  voices  call, 
Sad  as  the  night-bird's  mournful  cries, 

From  out  the  hush  at  twilight -fall 
Where  projie  each  tented  roof- tree  lies  ; 

Or  w^here  the  latest  watch-fire  shone, 
Or  })lume- crowned  warrior  lingered  last ; 

AVhere  darkly  rests  each  fading,  lone 
Memento  of  a  glory  passed. 


Mementos  ?— ah  !  where  shall  I  turn 
For  relics  of  the  things  that  were  ? 

No  fragment  of  life's  broken  urn 
Rests  by  each  empty  sepulcher  ; 

Of  noblest  breasts  beneath  the  sands 
Is  left  no  monumental  trace  ; 

No  grave-posts  set  by  loving  hands. 
No  to -terns  mark  their  dwelling  place. 


^ 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 

Ye  lingering  few  who  weakly  stiuid 
Where  str(>ng  of  old  your  fatlu'rs  stood  ' 

The  rulers  in  u  mighty  laiul  — 
Unmeasured  leagues  of  .vave  and  wood  ! 

Ye  proudly  keep,  howso  hereft, 
Still  of  the  bold  heroic  will, 

Though  of  that  realm  to  you  are  left 
But  narrow  belts  of  vale  and  hill. 


I 


Where  once  you  bore  the  warrior -bow 
Or  fleetly  led  the  hunter- chase, 

Now,  fate-constraiiu'd,  you  reap  and  sow — • 
Now  toil  as  doth  the  Toiler- race. 

If  others  plant  on  fairer  wold, 
And  harvest  more  of  golden  ears, 

I  this  recall,  that  they  do  hold 
The  vantage  of  a  thousand  years. 

Though  silent,  yours  a  soul  intense  ; 
Still  is  the  dusky  breast  imbued 

With  slumbering  fire,  whose  eloquence 
Once  thrilled  the  forest  solitude. 

And  when  the  thoughts  that  hold  and  thrall 
In  other  speech  take  form  again. 

You,  standing  in  the  council -hall, 
Shall  stir  anew  the  hearts  of  men. 


I 


IS. 


PROEM 


111(1 

;t()od  • 
rood  ! 


left 


Thougli  war  to-day  could  hut  degrade, 
Has  lost  for  you  its  use  and  i)laee, 

It  was  your  warrior -bow  that  made 
You  first  among  the  Dusky  liace. 

And  tlujugh  our  shrinking  souls  ahlior 
The  cruel  deed,  the  wild  excess, 

The  valor  that  is  born  of  war 
Is  kin  to  every  nobleness. 


'-bow 
and  sow- 


It  was  the  foe,  fierce,  brave  and  strong. 
Who  for  your  homes  contending  stood, 

That  brought  the  need  which  wrought  erelong 
Your  mighty  League  of  Brotherhood. 

And  though  it  only  lives  iii  name, 
Or  on  the  bold  historic  page, 

0  keep  its  bright,  proud  hero-fame 
Unsullied  still  from  age  to  a^re  ! 


se  ; 


uence 


I  and  thrall 


And  were  it  better  so,  did  they— 
The  fore -time  virtues— still  remain  ? 

The  virtues  of  one  race  and  day 
May  be  another's  vice  and  bane. 

Though  nevermore  to  warrior  bold 
Shall  time  renew  each  glorious  deed. 

Still  to  the  Bond  in  spirit  liold, 
The  precepts  of  its  founder  heed. 


II 

i 

! 

;i 
i 

i 

1 

-i 

i! 

*8*  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

On  him  to  whom  your  lofty  fame 
You  owe,  still  let  your  reverence  wait; 

Give  honor  due  the  noble  name 
Of  Hayo-went-ha,  good  and  great. 

Among  you  its  in  days  of  old 
May  love-inspiring  chieftains  stand ; 

Who  wise  the  ancient  lore  unfold 
Hid  in  the  sacred  Wampum-band.    - 

And  what  the  Future  hath  in  storo 
,  I  would  not,  if  I  might,  divine  ;     ' 

Enough  for  you,  that  evermore 
The  Past  all  glorious  shall  shine. 

Wherein  till  Time's  corroding  hand 
Has  made  all  valor's  records  dim, 

The  Iroquois  shall  proudly  stand 
For  daring  deeds  the  synonym. 


t\- 


THE    FORE -WORLD 


II 


Vast  Jidds  unfenced  save  hi/  (he  purple  rout   ' 
Of  the  hhfh-archUuj  hearetis;  the  gnind  on-siviep 
0/rirers  that  far  stretch  from  zone  to  zone  ; 

Lakes  uide  out-reaching  tJie  horizon's  houtid ; 
Hoar  mountains  uonder-trrappcd ,  sublime  and  lone; 
Woods  that  in  wild  unbroken  heantif  sleep 
Aye  unto  aye:  —  a  fairer  world  apart ! 
Swli,  Nature  huildiny  on  her  laryer  jdan, 

]\'ith  temples,  altars,  shrines  surpassiny  yirt, 
Was  once  the  home  of  the  Primeval  Man. 


11 


le  rout  f 


on- sweep 


t hound ; 
?  and  hme ; 

•P 

trf ! 
Ian, 

sfthiff  Art, 
(III. 


THE    FORE-WORLD. 


He  that  has  stood  witli  kindling  eye 
Ovvasco's  peerless  blue  beside, 

Looked  on  Cayuga  murmuring  nigji, 
On  Cunandaigua's  tranquil  tide, 

No  more  may  wonder  why  to-day 
By  their  bright  floods  Tradition  dvvells  ; 

By  the  clear  springs  of  Seneca 
And  Onondaga's  linipi<l  wells. 


To  honor  with  just  meed  of  praise 
All  noble  deeds,  the  ages  wait ; 

Still  from  the  Pji«t  some  token  stays, 
Some  record  lives  of  heroes  great. 

Nor  shall  ye  be  of  fame  bereft. 
First  on  the  bold  Pleroic  Page, 

While  to  these  lakes  and  streams  are  left 
Their  names— your  gift  and  heritage 

3 


12 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IIWjVOIS. 


t  ■     i 


I 


Yet  who  shall  bring  the  vanished  lore- 
Of  other  days  the  story  tell  ? 

Of  days  while  yet  their  farther  shore 
Where  now  the  Pale -face  strangers  dwell, 

Was  trod  alone  by  dusky  braves  ; 
While  yet  the  light  canoe  was  seen 

Alone  upon  their  smiling  waves, 
And  wigwams  l>y  their  marges  green. 

Though  be  my  loss  another's  gain, 
What  comfort  to  this  anguished  heart 

In  boundless  fields  of  golden  grain, 
In  smiling  homes  and  thrcmging  mart  ? 

And  turn  I  oft  with  longing  eyes 
From  scenes  the  nearer  vision  sees. 

To  those  that  f;>r  and  dimly  rise, 
And  deeply  cherished  more  than  these. 

When  all  the  plain  was  lapped  in  calm 
To  where  the  horizon  deepens  down  ; 

Serene  embloomed  in  summer  balm 
Or  ro])ed  in  autumn's  gold  and  brown  ; 

When  stretched  a  broad  unbroken  wild 
Far  as  the  Morning's  eye  could  trace, 

In  nature's  beauty  undefiled, — 
The  Empire  of  the  Hunter-race. 


'  ii 


THE  FORE-WORLD. 


13 


0  peerless  realm  !  of  hill  uiid  Viilc, 
Of  mountain,  moorland,  wood  and  gjado, 

Traced  onl}-  by  the  narrow  trail 
That  dusky  moccasined  feet  had  made  ;  ' 

Where  many  a  smilin<r  meadow  shone, 
Fenced  hy  the  ether's  i)urple  ledge. 

With  waving  grasses  overgrown, 
High  greening  to  the  billows'  edirc 


0  vanished  days  !  no  more  to  be,— 
Days  when  beside  these  limpid  spriiigs 

Wide  roamed  the  Elk  as  fleet  and  free 
As  though  his  very  feet .  ad  wings. 

The  Moose  his  mighty  antlers  bore 
O'er  pastures  green  with  kingly  rule  ; 

The  red  Deer  flocked  each  grassy  shore  - 
Stood  mirrored  in  the  crj^stal  pool. 


Wliat  time  the  patient  Beaver  wrought— 
A  type  of  noblest  brotherhood  ! 

As  though  his  meaner  soul  had  caught 
The  vision  of  earth's  highest  good  ;  — 

When  through  an  instinct  brute  and  dim, 
The  dream  that  haunts  the  wisest  sage 

To-day,  was  realized  in  him  : 
Ilude  prophet  of  a  riper  age  ! 


14:  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 

When  oft,  as  winter  winds  wore  chill 
And  woke  the  Raven's  croak  and  caw, 

Borne  on  the  blast  came  yelpings  shrill 
Broke  from  the  Wolf's  unsated  maw ; 

As,  trailing  far  some  hapless  Ilo'e 
He  circled  on  the  panting  beast. 

Wild  calling  through  the  drifting  snow 
His  fellows  to  ti  common  feast. 

What  time  the  Fox,  or  late  or  soon, 
Far  o'er  the  glimmering  fields  away. 

Led  forth  her  young  beneath  the  moon 
To  wily  hunt  the  wary  prey; 

Or  following  wide,  to  snuff  the  wind, 
Of  keener  scent,  in  cunning  deft,  • 

Her  larger  unloved  kin,  to  find 
If  latest  surfeit  something  left. 

Or,  when  sweet  Shaw -on -da- see  drew 
Each  pinion  fleet  from  seas  remote, 

Outwelled  from  sightless  deeps  of  blue. 
The  Brand -goose  clanged  his  harsher  note; 

The  while  each  oft   returning  spring 
The  purple  sea  was  softly  pressed 

By  gentle  White  Swan's  snowy  wing, 
Or  daring  Osprey's  downy  breast. 


If  i-i 


THF  FORE-WORLD. 


15 


When  cloven  by  Eagle's  wing  would  break 
The  far  horizon's  golden  edge ; 

And  noisy  tell-tale  Teal  and  Drake 
Quacked  querulous  through  the  reedy  sedge : 

Or  woke  a  swift- winged  clash  and  clang 
As  nigh  the  fierce -beaked  Falcon  flew  ; 

While  to  the  moon  the  Sea- owl  sang 
His  doleful  note  of — "woo -too -woo." 

When  not  alone  at  morning  blush 
The  Shore -lark  woke  his  piping  shrill, 

But  cleaved  afar  the  sober  hush 
Of  falling  twilight,  piping  still. 

Or  slow  along  the  river  s  brink 
The  wide -winged  Fisher  darkened  b}-; 

Or,  where  the  blue  waves  rise  and  sink. 
Came  up  the  Sea- crow's  lonely  cry. 


drew 


ing 


'iiigi 


Or,  dark  from  umbrage -shadowed  spring 
At  set  of  sun,  the  Bittern  drew 

His  sable -plumed  nocturnal  wing, 
Or  woke  his  hollow  ''dun-ka-doo." 

Or,  piercing  far  the  dusky  pall 
Of  storm -bethreatening  night,  was  heard 

The  Loon's  sad,  ill -foreboding  call  — 
A  lonesome,  melancholy  bird. 


i 


16 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQVOIS. 


Slow -wading,  bent  on  leech  cand  frog, 
The  Snipe  clacked  o'er  the  reedy  moor ; 

The  Pewit  from  the  drift-wood  log 
Sj.ng  ''pe-wit"  to  the  drowsy  shore. 

While  harsh  and  hideons  unaware, 
The  foolish  Moor -hen  screeched  and  screamed 

Till  all  the  fowls  of  sea  and  air, 
From  ugly  contrast  fairer  seemed. 

Deep  in  the  greening  willows  hid. 
Chief  of  the  insect -minstrel  throng. 

The  solemn -trilling  Katy-did 
Lulled  the  lone  twilight  hours  with  song. 

And  all  the  night  long  twinkkMl  bright 
The  fitful  Fire -fly's  flickering  lamp; 

Or  danced  afar  the  fleeting  light 
Of  meteor  from  the  marshy  damp. 

While  over  all,  night's  mournful  bird 
In  plaintive  numbers,  wild  and  shrill. 

At  eve  or  rising  dawn  was  heard  — 
The  sad -complaining  Whippoorwill. 

No  sound  amid  the  sounds  I  hear 
At  monrng's  flush  or  vesper's  sigh 

Falls  soothing  on  this  listening  ear 
As  fell  that  long -lost  lullaby. 


Mil 


!S. 


THE  FORE-  won  I.  P. 


17 


frog, 
oor ; 


<>g 


re. 


re, 

id  screamed 


Yet  not  for  Nature's  loss  alone 
I  share  in  Nature's  grief  and  tears  ; 

Eacli  wild  be.'ist  fled  or  free  bird  flown 
Love's  deeper  loss  the  more  endears. 

Each  tenant  of  the  woods  and  stn'uius, 

Linked  to  a  fairer  glory  fled, 

Unto  the  anguished  spirit  seems 

A  portion  of  the  loved  and  df^ad. 

*  *  *  *  * 


-1, 


'g, 


li  song. 
l)right 

i>; 


Ere  deep  athwart  night's  sahle  gloom 
AVith  flashing  like  a  falling  star 

First  broke  the  cannon's  awful  boom, 
Or  venturous  voyager's  song  afar. 

The  while  his  white  sail  fluttered  Iree, 
Or  gay  with  moonlight  silver  furh'd, 

Came  o'er  the  softly -flowing  sea 
Like  whispers  from  the  under-world  ;  — 


I  bird 

:-ill, 
ill. 

ir 

1 

ear 


Here  by  the  flood  the  dusky  brave 
Looked  from  his  wigwam's  lowly  door 

To  hear  the  sweetly  vocal  wave 
Low -lapsing  on  a  quiet  shore ; 

To  see  the  days  go  tranquil  ])y, 
The  starry  nights  in  peaceful  rest  ; 

As  blest  in  Nature's  lap  to  lie 
As  infant  on  its  mother's  breast. 


I 


18 


THK  LHAdlK   OF  TUh'   IliOQUOIS. 


Ill  simple  thouglit  content,  to  him, 
Far -gazing  from  the  gnussy  mound. 

The  fading  ether's  silver  rim 
But  seemed  the  wide  world's  outer  hound. 

While  in  the  high  o'erarching  dome 
A  fairer  land  his  fancy  drew  ; 

The  noble  warrior's  Spirit  Home 
Lay  just  beyond  its  wall  of  blue. 

Serene  the  radiant  seasons  wore, 
Unstartled,  save  by  rustling  reed 

Touched  by  the  zephyr's  wing  that  bon 
P^air  Seg-wun  o'er  the  springing  mead  ; 

As  forth  she  came  from  sunset  skies, 
Robed  in  a  halo  so  complete 

It  only  showed  to  eager  eyes 
The  glory  of  her  sJiining  feet. 


'liliMt 

liii 


Or  if,  perchance,  a  wilder  moan 
Came  o'er  the  water's  shadowy  gloom. 

As  with  an  ill- foreboding  tone 
The  bull-rush  waved  its  airy  plume  ; 

Or  angry  billows  boisterous  grew 
With  chafing  on  the  pebbly  beach  ; 

Or  stormy  winds  went  wailing  thnmgh 
The  cedars  by  the  sand}^  reach  ; 


THE  FORE-WOULD. 


19 


Or  stninge,  unwonted  sounds  were  heard 
Like  spirits  through  the  frightened  air  ; 

The  cry  of  beast  or  scream  of  bird 
That  sorrow's  dim  monitions  bear  ;  * 

Or  tlirough  the  midnight  Avan  and  i)ale 
Sped  angry  meteors,  ghiring  red  ; 

Or  down  the  gk)oni-emmantled  vale 
Stole  moccasined  warriors'  stealthy  tread  ; 

Or  fiery  War's  dread  rumor  came, 
And  on  the  sky  fell  portents  stood 

To  kindle  wide  the  battle  -  flame, 
Uplift  the  war -ax,  stained  with  blood  ;  — 

Here  oft,  with  warrior- bow  unstrung. 
He  long  on  bear- skin  couch  reclined; 

Nor  heard  in  lays  the  wild  winds  sung 
The  discord  of  the  march  of  Mind. 


Irougli 


Or,  as  the  long  day  slowly  wore. 
With  eager  eye  and  wary  tread, 

And  feathered  quiver's  flinty  store. 
Far  followed  where  the  wild  deer  fled. 

Or  when,  in  hunter  pleasures  loose. 
The  chase  to  frenzied  passion  grew. 

He  fleetly  tracked  the  flying  Moose 
To  hills  beyond  the  farthest  blue. 


1 


90 


rHK   Lh'.Adl'K   Oh'   TIIF.    lUOi^l'OIfi. 


The  \vhile  the  msitron's  busy  hand 
To  beauty  charmed  the  lonely  day  ; 

Glad  toiling  for  her  dusky  band, 
And  him,  the  hunter,  far  away. 

No  needful  labor  held  in  scorn  — 
Content  to  dig  the  fruitful  jdain. 

To  plant,  or  pluck  the  ripened  corn 
Or  patient  pound  the  golden  grain. 


ill 


'■Mli 


!!  I 


While  tawny  maids,  from  moon  to  moon, 
Sat  in  the  rude  tent's  matted  shade 

To  work  the  fawn -skin  beaded  .shoon, 
Or  weave  the  precious  wampum -braid. 

Or  glad,  the  frailer  bark  to  run. 
Would  ply  their  brown  arms,  bare  and  stout ; 

Or  hang  the  bear- meat  in  the  sun. 
Or  angle  for  the  tickle  trout. 

Or,  as  the  sea  a  glory  caught, 
Lit  by  the  Leaf- moon  shining  late, 

Untouched  of  fear  that  sadly  brought 
The  dear  Winona's  darker  fate, 

Enclasped  by  young  brave's  manly  arm, 
By  love  enhaloed,  long  would  rest 

In  blissful  dreams  as  wildly  warm 
As  dreams  that  haunt  the  fiiirest  breast. 


I 


TUK  FORK-  iroRnn. 


91 


oni 


Ami  who  shull  siiy  u  ineiUKT  dower 
Had  .she,  the  dusky  forest -chihl  ? 

Tluit  oil  her  hnvly  nuptial  hour 
No  sylvau  llymeu  sweetly  smiled  ? 

To  lend  for  every  pain  and  strife 
Love  s  all-enduriug  recompense  ; 

Kobe  with  content  her  ruder  life 
And  jxarlaud  it  with  innocence. 


to  moon, 

le 

shoon, 

l)raid. 

and  stout ; 
hun, 


If  all  unlearned,  not  vainly  learned  : 
From  primal  household  ways  nnweaned, 

The  woman  but  the  woman  yearned. 
The  maiden  to  the  matron  leaned  ; 

To  know  the  rarest  joys  that  be 
For  hearts  that  simple  loves  suffice  ; 

In  marvelous  mother -gift  to  see 
The  heaven  that  is  in  bab}''  eyes. 


te, 
ought 

anly  arm, 

u 

irm 
brejist. 


With  tiny  feet  along  the  sand 
AVhen  summer's  balmy  breezes  blew, 

^V"ould  childhood  roam  its  fairy  land, 
With  cheeks  like  autumn's  ruddiest  hue. 

That  in  the  sunlight  ripened  free 
To  maiden  charm  or  manly  grace  ; 

Nor  marvel  that  I  fail  to  see 
The  fairer  in  the  paler  face. 


M 


23  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Unfettered  grew  each  tender  thouglit, 
To  it  no  task -time  came  to  vex ; 

Nor  Art  her  robe  unseemly  wrought 
To  mar  and  outward  symbol  sex.. 

Yet  beauty  shines  through  all  disguise 
Unconscious  of  its  loveliness  ; 

And  Nature's  child  is  simply  wise 
In  Virtue  —  all  untaught  of  dress. 

Not  in  the  garment's  fold  or  braid, 
Nor  in  the  outward  form  or  face, 

The  heart  by  tender  passions  swayed 
Has  rarer  gift  of  charm  and  grace. 

In  voice  th;:t  woke  in  gentler  tone, 
In  petted  wolf-cub  sweet  caressed, 

In  nameless  winsome  ways  out  shone 
The  woman  in  the  maiden  ]>reast. 

Or  on  each  face  with  sunshine  dyed, 
When  wandering  on  the  dreary  fell, 

The  growing  flush  of  manly  pride 
Would  manhood's  eager  life  foretell ; 

As  in  the  instinct  of  his  race 
And  native  health's  exuberant  glow. 

He  mimicked  wide  the  hunter- chase. 
Or  twanged  the  mimic  warrior -bow. 


!  i 


THE  FORE-WORLD. 


S8 


Or,  as  to  riper  years  lie  grew, 
His  hand  from  meaner  toils  aloof, 

He  builded  fit  his  bark  canoe. 
Or  wove  the  wigwam's  reedy  roof. 

Or  when  the  solemn  midnight  hour 
Shone  red,  with  blazing  camp-fires  lit. 

He  led  the  dance  where  strength  and  power 
Are  firm  in  limb  and  muscle  knit. 

Or,  more  his  greatening  heart  to  show. 
Would  eager  hunt  the  prowling  bear ; 

Or  chase  .afar  the  frightened  roe, 
Or  panther  to  his  lonely  lair. 

Or  boldly  on  to  strife  and  din 
Of  Avar's  wild  turmoil,  unafraid  ; 

If  only  so  to  woo  and  win 
The  beauteous,  dark -eyed  Indian  maid. 


Still  growing  childhood  meets  my  eye 
With  faces  like  the  drifting  snow  ; 

The  tread  of  tiny  feet  go  by. 
But  not  the  tiny  feet  I  kiio^v. 

And  happy  voices,  glad  an<I  gay, 
Soft  murmur  like  a  lippled  sea ; 

But  only  Avake  the  memory 
Of  silent  voices  dear  to  me. 


iiiil: 


'1 


i':.|i!|i 

\i.\V 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE   TliOQUOIS. 

Though  still  I  see  fond  yearning  eyes 
Full-brimming  with  love's  tender  bliss, 

No  other  orl)s  so  fair  may  rise 
As  hers  that  lit  the  wilderness. 

And  mid  the  throng,  that  onward  bears 
With  hurrying  like  the  hurrying  waves, 

No  manly  form  such  greatness  wears 
As  slumbers  in  the  olden  graves. 


By  wooded  hills  and  greening  vales 
That  more  the  mournful  Past  endears, 

I  con  the  half-forgotten  tales, 
Time-worn  and  blotted  all  with  tears, 

Of  chieftains  brave,  of  warriors  bold  ; 
While  to  my  deeply-visioned  ken 

All  forms  —  the  best  beloved  of  old — 
That  fairer  Fore-World  throng  again. 


Of  maidens  smiling  as  the  sun 
By  home-bright  tents  that  glimmering  show; 

Of  pjiinted  braves  that  leap  and  run 
Or  fearless  draw  the  warrior-bow. 

Of  youchs  with  fiery  hearts  and  great 
Who  win  the  hunter's  proudest  fame, 

Returning  from  the  chase  elate. 
Full-laden  with  the  hunter's  game. 


THE  FORE-WORLD. 


25 


Rejoicing  in  their  happy  h)t, 
They  tell  of  all  adventures  bold  ; 

Or,  every  pain  and  care  forgot, 
To  hearken  to  the  legends  old, 

They  round  the  winter-fireside  sit ; 
To  list,  perchance,  the  aged  sire 

The  story  tell  of  him  that  lit 
The  Onondasra  Couu(;il-fire. 


And  if  my  Harp  I  Avake  for  him 
Whose  fading  memory  still  delays  ; 

And  darkly  spell  the  record  dim  — 
The  record  of  departed  days  ; 

Wherein  is  shown,  with  little  art, 
The  greatness  of  his  fame  and  deeds  ; 

Nor  record  less  of  human  heart 
With  human  eares  and  human  needs  ; 


ering  show; 


run 


No  vain  renown  I  seek  to  win 
For  one  of  more  than  mortal  birth  ; 

But  only  do  I  strive  therein 
To  more  exalt  the  noble  worth 

Of  him  the  Red  Man  loved  the  most ; 
Of  him  I  loved — still  love  no  less 

Mid  Ovvayneo's  Shining  Ho-^t ; 
And  so  would  prove  love's  worthiness. 


I 


26 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Whom  most  we  love,  the  strong  or  great, 
Or  wise  or  good  or  beautiful. 

For  whom  we  strive,  for  whom  we  wait 
To  make  life's  crowning  glory  full, 

We  all  exalted  souls  would  mo've 
To  love — nor  make  love's  virtue  less  ; 

That  so,  through  love  these  too  may  prove 
Their  own  all  heights  of  nobleness. 


i'lii 


;:ii' 


0  Love  !  however  much  is  left 
In  thee,  love  cannot  cancel  pain, — 

Sad  solace  of  a  heart  bereft — 
Nor  build  the  vanished  years  again. 

Nor  swiftly-lapsing  life  renew  ; 
Yet  will  1  turn  the  fading  Page 

Once  more  ;  once  more,  and  then  adieu, 
A  last  adieu — thou  Primal  Age. 


>/5. 


f  or  great, 


ysi 


we  wait 

I. 
e 

less; 
may  prove 

>s. 


THE    COMING 


-OF — 


in, 


IIAYO-WENT-IIA. 


en  adieu, 


i 


1 


w 


I'L 


i 


Of  every  good  the  soul  maij  know 
Its  aspiration  is  the  seed ; 

Thejloinrs  of  bliss  that  sirectest  hloir 
Spring  from  a  yearning  human  need  ; 

What  destiny  lore  longing  waits, 
The  all-requiting  Fates  pre2)are ; 

The  key  to  all  the  heavenly  gates 
Is  in  the  heart's  unuttered prayer. 


iir 


THE  COMING  OF  HA YO- VVENT-HA. 


loir 


While  yet  the  rising  days  were  few, 
And  deeds  of  Avonder  had  not  grown 

Too  strange  and  marvelous  to  be  true,— 
So  all  infrequent  and  unknown  ; 

Wliile  yet  in  wood  and  waterfall, 
In  wild  waves'  toss,  in  winds  that  blow, 

In  cry  of  beast,  in  free  bird's  call 
Was  heard  the  voice  of  Manito ; 


While  yet  in  river,  lake  and  sea. 
Oft  heard  in  summer's  twilight  calm. 

Rude-floundering,  dwelt  great  Unk-ta-he, 
The  Nee-ba-naw-baigs  laved  and  swam  ; 

And  everywhere  by  vale  and  hill. 
In  rock  and  tree  and  floweret  fair. 

Some  spirit  dwelt  of  good  or  ill  — 
Some  spirit  of  the  earth  or  air  ; ' 


I'iili" 


III! 


1^1 


:     I 


30  TH3  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 

While  yet  departed  shades  that  roam 
Or  in  more  subtle  forms  abide, 

Shades  that  alike  in  shadow-gloani 
Or  noontide  sunshine  darkly  hide,  — 

All  shapes  that  are,  were  seen  to  be ; 
Shapes  ro])ed  in  light  whose  forms  of  air 

Our  duller  eyes  no  longer  see. 
Though  thickly  thronging  everywhere  ; 

While  yet  to  many  a  kindling  eye 
Fair  in  the  sunset's  painted  show 

Low  bent  the  Spirit's  Home,  so  nigh, 
It  glimmering  seemed  to  faint  and  glow ; 

So  nigh  that  you  might  hear  the  call 
Of  long-departed  braves,  or  stand 

High  on  some  mountain  tree-toj)  tall 
And  climb  into  the  Better  Land  ; 

Or  far,  with  wondering  sight,  behold. 
Lit  by  the  ether's  fiery  bound, 

Where  dwell  the  mighty  warriors  old, 
The  fairer  woods  and  Hunting  Ground  ; 

Or  see  beyond  the  cloudy  rack, 
Through  many  a  purple  rift  and  rent, 

Just  by  the  day's  departing  track, 
Great  Inigorio's  shining  tent ;" 


JJS, 


THE  COMING   OF  HAYO-WENT-UA. 


in 


roam 
am 

;o  be ; 
s  of  air 

;vhere ; 


In  that  far  time — how  long  ago  ? 
What  matters  if  I  may  not  tell 

How  many  suns  ? — enough  to  know 
That  of  a  truth  it  so  befell ; 

Of  greatest  deeds  the  world  hath  known, 
Of  horo-fame  the  most  sublime, 

The  unremembered  years  alone 
Have  record  ; — iu  that  far-off  time, 


eye 

o  nigh, 

md  glow ; 

he  call 

il 

op  tall 


From  Isles  beyond  the  bound  of  day 
Where  dwells  the  mighty  Wa-zha-wand, 

A  magic  Chee-maun,  far  away, 
Wide-parting  from  the  Shining  Land, — 

A  magic  Chee-maun,  winged  with  flame 
And  light  and  fleet  as  morning  sun, 

Swift  o'er  the  flashing  billows  came, 
Nor  paddle  had — nor  need  of  one. 


K'hold, 

iors  old, 
ound ; 

rent, 
ick, 


And  Him  alone  it  lightly  bore, 
Bright  speeding  on  the  foaming  flood. 

Him  —  from  that  far-ofl^  fairer  shore  — 
Him,  Hayo-went-ha,  great  and  good ; 

Low-journeying  from  Love's  radiant  place 
The  people  of  the  Avild  to  bless  ; 

His  brethren  of  the  Dusky  Race — 
The  dwellers  in  the  ^vilderness. 


I 


82 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 


And  who  nitiy  siiy,  us  on  he  drew, 
He  saw  afar  a  glory  shrined  ; 

Nor  that  his  heart  turned,  yearning,  to 
A  greater  glory  left  ))ehind  ? 

Howe'er  it  be,  still  on  he  held  ; 
While  on  the  tide  a  splendor  shed 

That  frail  canoe,  as  self-impelled 
And  like  the  dawn  it  onward  sped. 


1 


And  on,  and  on,  and  still  away, 
And  still  away  —  and  on,  and  on  ; 

He  passed  the  doorways  of  the  day. 
The  gateways  of  the  setting  sun  ; 

And  still  away  it  eager  pressed, 
More  light  and  fleeter  than  the  swan  : 

As  if  the  sea  with  loving  ^)reast 
Would  bear  the  precious  burden  on. 


¥h 


Near  by  enchanted  shores  he  drew, 
Saw  where  the  dread  Magicians  dwell ; 

-  But  felt  no  fear,  for  well  he  knew 
Nor  wicked  art,  nor  wizard  spell 

Had  power  to  harm  ;  his  clearer  eyes 
Saw  medicine  for  every  pain, 

Saw  that  on  faithful  souls  and  wise 
They  wrought  their  evil  charms  in  vain. 


liaik, 


^ 


TIIK  COMIXG   or  IIAYO-WKNT-llA. 


38 


m 


Or  night  or  dsiy,  still  on — the  .same 
Where'er  he  willed  ;  nor  turned  aside 

When,  barring  all  the  way  with  Hanie, 
He  far  the  P'iery  Serpents  spied  ; 

Ihit  loud  he  cried,  as  drawing  near, 
•'Ikdiind  you  look  I '/'-  with  fVighltul  ery 

They  darted  back  their  heads  in  fear ; 
Swift  as  the  wind  he  passed  them  by. 


an  : 


-* 


Exulting  o'er  the  Keptile  race. 
With  strength  he  struug  his  warrior-bow. 

Approaching  nigh  the  horrid  i)lace. 
Though  iierce  tlu'}'  hiss  and  writhe  and  glow; 

From  out  his  quiver's  full  supply 
He  forth  the  magic  arrows  drew; 

Them  one  by  one  he  straight  let  fly 
And  all  the  llaniing  serpents  slew. 


Touchc'l  with  his  bark  the  shadowy  lands 
That  bound  the  terror-gloomed  abyss. 

Where  Chebia-])os  faithful  stands 
Between  that  fairer  world  and  this, 

The  passing  soul  to  lead  and  guide 
Far  journeying  unto  regions  blest  — 

Beyond  the  realm  of  darkness  wide, 
The  Better  Land  of  peace  and  rest. 


34  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Swift  over  crystal  setus  he  sped, 
Where  thick  is  strewn  the  rocky  floor 

With  bones  of  all  the  countless  detwl 
That,  passiiij^,  sank  to  rise  no  more  ; 

Thouj^h  threatening  far  tl         lows  toss. 
His  Chee-niaun  smoothes  each  angry  wave  ; 

The  good  alone  can  safely  cross 
The  floods  that  mortals  all  must  brave. ' 


Still  on  —  till  many  a  land  he  saw 
Witli  seas  and  mountains  looming  large  ; 

While  many  a  swarthy  brave  in  awe 
Gazed  wondering  on  that  fleeting  barge  ; 

And  still  away  it  tireless  b  "e 
On  stormy  waves  or  peacefi         ^ps, 

Till  light  it  pressed  the  pehoi^  shore 
Where  Onondaga  tranquil  sleeps. 


Mild  shone  the  kindling  summer  sun, 
Fell  soft  the  vernal  breezes  bland, 

The  tide  in  silver  ripples  run  — 
Low  murmured,  lapsing  on  the  sand  ; 

More  rjidiant  afar  unrolled 
The  widening  sea  with  billowy  crest, 

As  shimmering  in  the  sunset  gold. 
Like  rubies  flashed  each  dimpled  crest. 


)1S. 


THh'  voMis'f}  or  nAyo-ifhwr-itA. 


.S5 


Roor 
i  (knul 
re ; 

lows  toss, 
gry  wave ; 

brave. ' 


Gliul  vcrdured  smiled  tlie  wooded  liills 
Witli  iiiiiiiy  a  grassy  intervale  ; 

Bright  interlaced  with  sparkling  rills 
And  crossed  by  niocciisiiied  lumter's  trail ; 

The  home  of  many  a  swarthy  band 
Afar  the  greening  valley  showed  ; 

And  seeing  such  a  goodly  land, 
He,  Hayo-weut-ha,  there  abode. 


saw 

ig  large  ; 
in  awe 
g  barge ; 

'ps, 
shore 


His  Chee-mann,  blest  of  Manito, 
That  paddle-bearing  hand  liad  none, 

But  swiftly  on  the  billows  drew 
With  him  who  lightly  willed  it  on, 

That  bore  liim  from  the  Shining  Land — • 
From  far  beyond  the  halls  of  day, 

Thence  drew  li    on  the  pebbly  sand 
And  hid  from  curi    is  eyes  iiway. 


uer  sun, 

sand ; 

Icrest, 
Igold, 
crest. 


And  braves  whose  sight  for  joy  was  dim 
Looked  on  him  with  a  glad  surprise  ; 

With  friendly  speech  they  welcomed  him 
The  noble  stranger,  good  and  wise. 

Li  him  they  saw,  foretold  of  old 
In  fable,  oracle  and  song. 

The  chieftain  great,  the  warrior  bold, 
The  leader  they  had  waited  long. 

6 


iTT 


36 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


He  that,  with  more  than  mortal  arm, 
Wiih  more  than  mortal  strength  to  do, 

Would  shield  them  hence  from  every  harm, 
And  all  their  dreaded  f'^-^^s  subdue. 

Who  calling  forth  each  scattered  band, 
Would  them  unite,  them  lead  and  teach, 

Until  unto  remotest  land 
The  greatness  of  their  fame  should  reach. 

Inwoven  with  its  destiny 
There  comes  a  great  Ideal  Man 

To  every  race ;  whose  prophecy 
Afar  the  waiting  years  fore-ran. 

Such  to  the  wandering  tribes  was  he  ; 
The  long-expected  Fatherhood 

They  found  in  him  ;  the  friend  to  be — 
The  bringer,  he,  of  every  good. 


ii  I 


If  in  the  cloudless  realms  of  light  — 
In  heights,  transcendent  heights  al)ove. 

Is  One  whose  love  is  infinite, 
His  wisdom  boundless  as  his  love  ; 

Shall  he  not  .all  his  childnm  heed, 
Still  mindful  of  their  lightest  quest  ? 

And  of  Himself,  as  is  their  need, 
Keveal  unto  the  lowliest  ? 


^ 


HE    WONDROUS    DEEDS 


V 


He  that  would  lead  a  sacage  Race 
^f^(st  he  himself  a  savage  ;  nay  ! 

Be  on  the  war-path^  in  the  chase, 
In  all  things  mightier  than  they. 

What  knoirh'dgc,  rirtiie  else  hath  he. 
In  irorfhy  irork — deeds  nobly  done — 

He  best  may  teach  men  quick  to  see 
The  meaning  of  a  battle  won. 


UHJUIIBim— MJUU 


IV 

TllK     WONDROFS     J)EEDS, 

'With  clieerful,  lubor-bearing  hand 
Aiul  with  sill  art  unknown  before, 

Or  only  in  tliat  Better  Land 
Away  beyond  the  morning  shore, 

Where  rose  Yo-non-to  near  and  hirge 
Witli  Onondaga  nmrniuring  niirli. 

He  built  liis  wigwam  oii  the  marge, 
A  royal  wigwam,  wide  and  high. 


Far  in  the  fenland,  toiling  lono- 
He  felled  tlie  larches  where  they  grew  ; 

Thence  with  a  willing  arm  and  strong 
He  forth  the  waiting  timbers  drew  ; 

And  them  upstanding,  straight  and  tall. 
Together  firm  inweaving,  he 

Wide  stretched  and  battened  over  all 
The  bark  of  many  a  birchen  tree. 


40 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


And  patient  wrouglit  he  many  a  day 
With  sinew-string  and  Ijarky  thong  ; 

With  loop  find  seam  and  stitch  and  stay, 
Intent  to  make  it  firm  and  stro'ng ; 

Until  at  length,  his  labors  o'er. 
As  in  the  wigwams  whence  he  came, 

Bright  by  the  Onondaga  shore 
He  lit  the  Home-fire's  sacred  flame. " 


Of  heart  of  ash-tree,  stout  and  true 
He  skillful  shaped  the  hunter-bow  ; 

He  wove  the  trusty  cord  that  drew. 
From  sinew  of  the  fallen  roe  ; 

With  far-resounding  Wow  and  dint 
He  agate  from  the  quarry  broke, 

A  !id  cunning  shaped  the  stubborn  flint 
With  steady  hand  and  patient  stroke. 


Of  rude  unshapen  stones  he  brought 
From  out  the  deeply-cloveji  ledge, 

He  many  a  rocky  missile  wrought 
With  glistening  point  and  keenest  edge  ; 

He  fashioned  straight  the  sharpened  sh  ilt. 
With  point  of  jasper ;  to  the  string 

Made  fit  the  arrow's  shining  haft 
And  pluuKMl  it  from  the  eagle's  wing. 


riU'i  iroxDiiors  deeds. 


41 


Then  from  his  Meda-siick  he  drew 
All  things  thiit  ])eiir  a  secret  chiirni ; 

Of  all  their  potency  he  knew — 
Their  power  to  harm,  to  shield  from  harm  ; 

Adorned  with  beak  and  claw  and  shell 
His  weapons  all ;  —  with  wizard  skill 

Wrought  into  each  the  magic  spell 
That  fateful  is  for  good  or  ill.  " 


Or  resting  from  his  ruder  toil, 
He  carved  and  shaped  the  pot  and  bowl, 

His  soup  to  warm,  his  meat  to  boil 
Aiurmake  the  wigwam  comforts  whole  ; 

Or  forth  he  went  with  sliaft  and  bow, 
And  many  a  hairy  skin  he  bore 

Of  Yek-wai  and  of  O-kwa-ho, 
And  softly  matted  all  the  floor. 


ht 

b  edge ; 

ened  shilt. 


To  charm  and  guard  his  home  aiul  place 
Its  barky  sides  he  pictured  fair 

With  to-tems  of  his  name  and  race  ; '" 
Where  fierce  the  Tortoise,  Wolf,  and  Bear 

High  on  its  matted  cover  shone  ; 
Each  type  and  symbol,  such  as  thence 

The  greatl}-^  wise  may  draw  alone 
The  mystery  of  the  hidden  sense. 


42 


77/ A'  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 


Then  to  the  wild  he  stalwart  bore 
His  mighty  bow  :  his  shaft  released, 

Swift-speeding,  lo  !  all  red  with  gore, 
Down-bellowing  fell  each  ugly  beast. 

Uno-wul  in  his  horny  shell, 
Low  on  the  sand  and  bleeding  lay  ; 

Great  Yek-wai,  mortal-wounded,  fell, 
The  lofty-antlered  Me-sha-way. 

When  Kwan-0-shaish-ta,  prowling  near. 
And  hissing  like  a  roaring  blast, 

Of  all  the  land  the  scourge  and  fear, 
With  scaly  feet  went  writhing  past. 

With  flaming  eye-balls  glaring  red. 
With  fiery  tongue  that  forked  drew, — 

A  hideous  serpent,  huge  and  dread  ; 
His  shaft  the  frightful  monster  slew.  '* 


Still  far  his  pointed  missiles  sped  : 
The  Be-zhu  hushed  his  awful  I'oar, 

The  0-kwa-ho  the  Ka-ka  fed  — 
His  hungry  howl  was  heard  no  more  ; 

Kwan-lbun-ge-a-gosh  on  the  tide, 
Great  Ke-ka-daw-nong  on  the  sand. 

Him  yielded  all  their  life  and  died,— 
The  monsters  of  the  sea  and  land. 


THE   WOXDTiOrs  DKEDS. 


48 


1, 


iieav, 


Still  loud  his  flinty  arrows  clank, 
Still  woke  the  shriek  of  dying  pain, 

Till  farthest  liill  and  valley  drank 
The  hlood  of  many  a  dragon  slain  ; 

Each  ngly  beast,  with  cry  and  roar, 
That  crawled  or  ran  or  swam  or  flew, 

Fell  —  reeking  red  with  dying  gore  — 
Fell  darkly  piercOd,  through  and  through. 

He  slew  the  frightful  Flying  Head,  " 
The  foe  that  nu)st  did  them  appall  ; 

And  them  t)iat  on  the  People  fed. 
The  Stonish  Giants,  fierce  and  tall  ; " 

Save  one  that  from  such  warrior  brave 
Swift  o'er  the  land  did  flee  away 

Far  to  the  south  ;  there  in  a  cave 
Deep  in  the  earth  is  liid  to-day. 


i,- 


Wide  borne  as  ou  the  winds  amain 
^Vent  tidings  of  his  name  and  fame ; 

Till  from  the  wood  and  from  the  plain 
Afar  his  tawny  jjeople  came 

With  hearts  elate,  intent  to  know 
The  growing  wonder,— learn  with  awe 

The  mystery  of  the  hunter-bow, 
And  how  to  hold,  and  how  to  draw. 

7 


Ii  i  I 


i 


44  THE  LEAGUE  OF  TUh'   lUOQUOIS, 

And  stronger  waxed  the  hand  that  drew  ; 
And  all  the  new-born  eagerness 

For  knowh^lge  unto  knowledge  grew  : — 
They  more  desire  who  more  possess. 

They  saw  in  arrow  speeding  straight. 
Tn  flinty  war-ax  winged  in  air, 

A  prophecy  of  nobler  fate, 
And  burned  all  noble  deeds  to  dare. 

From  Inigorio  the  Good, 
Gifts  })rought  he  from  that  fairer  shore 

Unto  the  People  of  the  Wood  ;  — 
Some  token  of  the  love  he  bore 

His  children  of  the  forest-wild  ; 
That  they  who  dwell  in  shadows  dim, 

Him  knowing  more  who  on  them  smiled, 
Would  more  delight  in  love  of  him. 


1 


I 


t 


■I 

-I 


'i 


And  Hayo-went-ha,  toiling  long 
Beside  the  Onondaga  strand, 

With  patient  hand,  for  labor  strong. 
Clove  wide  the  forest,  cleared  the  land  ; 

x4.nd  pondering  wise  the  mystery. 
The  wondrous  secrets  unrevealed 

Of  life  that  is  —  of  life  to  be  — 
He  mellowed  all  the  waiting  field. 


THE    WONDEOrs  DEEDS. 


45 


rcw  ; 


v: — 


Then  forth  tlie  sacred  parcel  drew ; 
And  in  the  ground  lie  careful  laid 

The  seeds  of  harvests  strange  and  new; 
And  when  had  sprung  each  shining  ])iade, 

He  round  it  i)ressed  the  mellow  loam  ; 
Not  douhtiug  when  the  days  were  full  — 

The  Moon  of  Falling  Leaves  had  come, 
To  see  the  ripened  miracle. 


niled, 


And  tending  all  with  ready  arm, 
He  saw  the  summer  wax  and  wane ; 

To  pull  the  weedy  spears  that  harm, 
Or  water  oft  the  parched  plain, 

He  came  and  went  with  tireless  feet ; 
Hope-girded  all  the  field  he  trod, 

Till  glad  he  plucked  the  kernels  sweet 
From  Scho-tfi-sa-min's  wondrous  pod. 


And  ruddy-ripe  o'er  all  the  land. 
Fair  in  the  autumn's  windv  days 

He  saw  great  0-nust  lusty  stand  ; 
He  rudely  stripped  the  mighty  Maize 

And  home  the  priceless  treasures  bore 
To  serve  the  stormy  winter's  need  ; 

Or  fairest  ears  did  careful  store  — 
The  future  harvest's  precious  seed. 


46 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


With  0-kwa-ho  from  farthest  wf)od, 
The  Me-sha-way  with  antlers  wide, 

The  Yek-vvui  fierce,  so  fat  and  good, 
The  snowy  Wau-bos,  tender-eyed  j 

With  many  a  bird  that  ran  or  flew, — 
The  Ta-wis  and  tlie  Oghk-we-se, 

Tlie  So-ha-ut,  of  sable  hue,  • 
The  Ka-ka  and  tlie  Kwa-ra-re  ; 


ilii 


With  many  a  fowl  that  clanged  the  spring 
The  quacking  So-ra  from  the  brake. 

The  Wau-be-zee  Avith  downy  wing, 
The  honking  Wa-wa  from  the  lake  ; 

Great  Do-di-uh-to  from  the  deeps. 
The  Sa-wa  from  the  shallow  waves, 

Kwan-Run-ge-a-gosh  —  he  that  leaps 
And  flounders  in  the  watery  caves. 


With  flesh  of  fish  and  bird  and  beast 
That  round  the  fire  hung  reeking  red, 

Of  savor  sweet,  a  royal  feast, 
With  many  a  pot  full-steaming,  spread 

He,  Hayo-went-ha,  good  and  wise, 
For  theirs,  his  loving  people's  sake  ; 

While  wonder  widened  in  their  eyes 
To  taste  great  0-nust's  smoking  cake. 


THE    }VONDliOVS  DEEDS. 


47 


Wliat  time  was  spread  the  bjinqiiet  there 
He  loosed  for  them  his  h>fty  si)ee(li ; 

He  wide  outspread  his  weai)ons  fair,— 
Tokl  of  the  make  and  use  of  eacli ; 

And  of  the  Maize,  its  growth  and  wortli ; 
The  treasures  of  the  fruitful  soil ; 

How  all  the  bounties  of  the  earth 
But  waited  on  the  hand  of  toil. 


Then  to  the  feast.    But  ere  he  drew 
Or  parted  hone  from  bone,  or  broke 

The  luscious  loaf,  or  tasted  stew, 
He,  rising,  to  his  people  spoke  :  — 
"0  Brothers  !  the  Great  Si)irit,  He 
These  presents  brings  to  those  who  wait 

To  do  his  will ;'"— theii  reverently 
Gave  thanks  to  Ovvay-ueo  G.-eat. '' 


-M 


'.J 


Then  unto  warrior,  chief  or  brave, 
Of  meat  or  bread  or  fowl  or  fish 

He,  as  their  rank,  in  order  gave, 
Refilling  oft  each  empty  dish  ; 

Or  from  the  embers,  glowing  hot, 
He  cake  of  0-nust  smoking  bore  ; 

Until  was  emptied  every  pot, 
Or  eating,  they  could  eat  no  more. 


48 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 


The  banquet  done,  on  grassy  plain 
To  chant  and  song  the  dance  began  ; 

Each  artless  maid,  untaught  to  feign  — 
To  wait  the  proffered  hfind  of  man. 

Unskilled  to  hide  what  Nature  gave, — 
The  heart  that  lit  her  virgin  breast, 

Heiself  to  him,  the  favored  brave, 
She  proffered  with  her  modest  quest.  ''' 

In  ])eaded  costume  fine  arrayed, 
At  beat  of  drum  and  rattle-clang, 

Stood  forth  each  waiting  forest  maid. 
Quick  forth  each  youthful  warrior  sprang. 

Now  up,  now  down,  noAV  fast,  now  slow, 
With  measured  time  and  agile  pacie. 

Their  lithe  forms  swaying  to  and  fro 
A  wonder  showed  of  supple  grace. 


And  so  he  taught  them  —  not  in  vain 
Of  every  good  of  labor  born, 

Till  shone  aiiir  each  hill  and  plain 
With  teeming  fields  of  growing  corn. '" 

And  often  to  my  ear  there  come 
(ilad  murmurs  of  the  after  ^ 

Of  happy  maidens  l>fMr 
The  burden  of  the         .icu  v 


IIAYO-WENT-ITA'S 


JOUKNEYINU 


ilii 


WJio  Jnurnej/s  far  in  knowledge  grows, 
Tf  wise,  to  wisdom  more  attains; 

The  more  the  outer  world  he  knows 
He  more  the  rarer  rision  yaiii.s  —      , 

The  knowledge  of  the  world  within; 
He  clearer  sees  with  deeper  ken 

That  human  souls  are  all  akin, 
Tliough  diverse  are  the  lives  of  men. 


iiil 


V 


HAYO-WENT-IIA'S  JOURNEYING. 


Mis  Chee-muuii,  blest  of  Miiiiito, 
That  paddle-bearing  hand  had  none, 

Yet  swiftly  on  the  billows  drew 
With  hiiu  who  lijrhtly  wiUed  it  on  ; 

That  bore  him  from  the  halls  of  day 
Across  the  shining  seas  nnknown, 

He  hid  from  curious  eyes  away — 
Kept  for  its  nobler  \ise  alone. 


Yet  oft,  when  in  the  rising  dawn 
He  saw  Yo-non-to  looming  large. 

That  bark,  from  secret  place  withdrawn. 
He  brought  unto  the  waiting  marge  ; 

And  parting  from  the  kindling  shore 
As  with  his  quickening  spirit  rife, 

It  Hayo-went-ha  proudly  bore,  — 
Went  speeding  like  a  thing  of  life. 

8 


52 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS, 


On  Onondaga's  dimpled  breast, 
The  limpid  wells  of  Seneca, 

Cayuga's  Hoods  it  lightly  pressed  ; 
Where  Skaneateles'  ripple.',  play,. 

Wliere  Canandaigua's  billows  toss, 
On  bright  Owasco,  blushing  blue, 

Oneida  fleeting  far  across, — 
Still  on  that  magic  Chee-maun  drew. 

To  where  the  Mohawk's  rushing  tides 
13y  vaster  woods  and  numntains  tlee  ; 

Or  where  the  wider  Hudson  glides. 
Goes  hastening  to  the  ))riuy  sea ; 

Still  seeking  far,  or  strange  or  new, 
A  fairer  land,  a  ])rigliter  bourne. 

Fled  wonder-winged  that  light  canoe 
Like  arrow  from  the  bow  of  Morn. 


j;ii 


And  swifter  than  that  barky  barge 
Went  tidings  of  his  name  and  fame  ; 

And  to  the  Council  flaming  large, 
From  far  his  tawny  people  came 

With  hearts  elate,  intent  to  know 
The  growing  wonder  ;  It  arn  with  awe 

The  mystery  of  the  hunter-bow, 
And  how  to  hold,  and  how  to  draw. 


■■:\ 


11 A  YO'WEST-IIA^S  JOUliNKYlSa. 


53 


Still  unto  wider  seas  away : 
Ontario's  swelling  tide  he  tracked  , 

Heard  great  Ki-ha-de's  "  E-wa-yea," — 
Looked  down  the  thundering  cataract ; 

And  mute  with  reverence,  bowed  in  awe 
Before  that  wonder  strange  and  new, 

He  veiled  his  face,  as  there  he  saw 
The  form  of  Miglity  Manito. 

Confessing  so  the  human  need 
Of  love  that  is  to  worship  grown, 

Untaught  in  ritual  and  creed 
Him  to  behold,  the  Great  Unknown 

No  less  the  lowliest  adore  ; 
AV  ho  most  on  Ovvay-neo  call 

Do  bear  the  likeness  more  and  more 
Of  Him,  the  Mighty  over  all. 


Still  on  —  awa}'  :  more  noisy  break 
Tlie  ripples  on  the  flowing  marge  ; 

Till  gleamed  his  glory-bearing  wake 
On  stormy  Erie,  foaming  large  ; 

On — past  each  headland,  island.  l>ay;- 
Wherever  rose  a  goodly  land 

With  dusky  warriors  painted  gay, 
He  drew  his  Chee-maun  on  the  strand. 


54 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


I  .'I 


He  shared  with  them  the  banquet  spread 
Around  the  camp-fire  bhizing  higli ; 

He  far  for  them  his  arrows  sped, 
He  slew  the  monsters  prowling  nigh  ; 

On  him  — such  mighty  deeds  he  wrought- 
They  wondering  gazed  in  fear  and  awe ; 

Wliile  of  the  hunter-bow  he  taught 
Them  how  to  hold  and  how  to  draw. 

And  thence  again  went  speeding  on, 
Till  Gitche  Gumee's  silver  smiles 

Shone  beauteous  in  the  setting  sun. 
With  widening  shores  and  shining  isles. 

There,  where  the  angry  billows  roll, 
With  Art  that  time's  corroding  mocks, 

He  pictured  many  a  curious  scroll — 
His  to-tems— -on  the  beetling  rocks. 

Vast  rumors  all  the  forest  stirred 
Of  Him,  —  and  still  the  wonder  ran ; 

He  far  the  welcome  greeting  heard — 
"Ta-ren-ya-wa-go  !— Mighty  Man  ! !"  " 

And  though  a  race  untamed  and  rude, 
His  manly  speech,  with  wisdom  fraught, 

Allayed  the  while  their  fiercer  mood  ; 
Himself,  in  teaching,  something  taught. 


HAYOWENT-UA^S  JOUItNEYING. 


55 


Still  on : — like  rising  morning  rji}' 
That  Chee-maun  lit  the  parting  tide  ; 

Still  toward  the  sunset  land  away — 
On  Es-con-aw-baw  rolling  wide  ; 

Still  on — to  many  a  stranger  sea :" 
Wherever  most  might  knowledge  loose 

Her  sacred  seal,  or  glory  be — 
To  widen  life  in  Love  and  Use. 

3^  f  ^  ^  ^ 

Thence,  on  the  billows  rolling  large, 
By  reaches  wide  of  wave  and  wood, 

Returning  where  by  pebbly  marge 
His  chosen  People  waiting  stood, — 

He,  coming  to  his  home  and  phice, 
Trod  proud  the  Onondaga  shore  ; 

While  rarer  shone  his  Prophet-face 
By  wisdom's  sunlight  brightened  more. 


Again  with  mighty  speech  he  drew 
The  dusky  tribes,  to  teach  and  bless, 

Till  great  the  Onondaga  grew 
Renowned  for  every  nobleness  ; 

And  many  a  wandering  band  had  heard. 
And  many  a  warrior-chieftain  came 

To  hearken  to  his  wiser  word ; 
Still  bearing  wide  his  name  and  fame. 


56 


77//;   LEAC.Vt:  OF  rilE   /liOQl'OIS. 


They  glad  a  willing  ear  to  lend, 
lie  taught  them  of  all  things  that  are  ; 

Of  life,  its  duties,  aim  and  end. 
And  of  the  Spirit  Land  afar ; 

The  land  beyond  the  starry  dome 
Or  where  the  sunset-glory  smiles ; 

Of  Oway-neo's  Shining  Home, 
Of  Inigorio's  JIappy  Tsles. 


And  not  unmindful  of  his  fame 
That  brightened  like  the  morning-rise, 

Him  Hayo-went-ha  they  did  name  — 
The  wisest  he,  among  the  wise. '" 

He,  growing,  not  alone  did  grow 
In  wisdom  ;  but  more  nobly  great, 

He  grew  in  love,  such  love  as  know 
Immortals  that  on  mortals  wait. 


Nor  less  revered  the  primal  law, 
Nor  less  the  human  want  confessed  ; 

But  felt  the  tender  yearnings  draw 
That  sway  and  bless  the  lowliest ; 

And  in  his  wigwam,  day  by  day, 
Sighed  o'er  the  Yong-we's  vacant  place  ; 

Or  from  his  deeper  thought  would  stray 
To  rarest  radiant  maiden  face. 


HA  YO-  WENT'JIA's  J  U  UH^iE  IINO. 


57 


0  nobler  Soul  !  that  glory  fires, 
High  summering  on  the  hills  of  fame, 

Within  a  deeper  breast  aspires 
And  glows  love's  rapt,  undying  Hame  ; 

How  frequent  to  thy  vision  starts 
The  dearer  light  of  loving  eyes ; 

Thou  hidest  in  thy  heart  of  hearts 
The  burning  wish  that  never  dies. 

For  dearer  than  all  i)recious  store, 
Or  pride  of  station,  nauie  or  race, 

Or  warrior-fauK',  or  wisdom's  lore, 
Were  wifely  smile  and  uuitron  grace ; 

The  pretty  darling's  winsome  ways. 
The  pattering  of  the  tiny  feet, 

To  while  and  charm  the  lonely  days 
And  make  the  wigwam's  joy  complete. 


Though  greatly  wise  to  teach  and  bless. 
And  first  in  Council-place  to  move. 

Knew  he  the  yearning  need  no  less 
Of  gentle  Yong-we's  heart  of  love. 

More  sweet  the  home-delighting  tone 
Than  far-resounding  glory-call ; 

0  Woman  !  thou  art  great  alone — 
Dost  reign  supremely  over  all. 


58 


THE  lb: AGUE  OF  THE  JIfOQUOIS. 


The  mighty  yield  alone  to  thee, 
Their  proudest  gifts  on  beauty  wait ; 

And  Oway-neo's  Prophet  he — 
He,  Hayo-went-ha  good  and  great, 

Would  woo  and  wed  a  mortal  bride  ;'" 
Low  ill  a  world  with  sorrow  rife 

Would  all  the  after  years  abide  ; — 
Would  dwell  content  in  lowly  life. 

0  Human  Heart ! — the  heart  Divine 
Too  hath  its  anguish  to  confess  ; 

Yon  radiant  sun  must  burn  to  shine  ; 
And  in  the  heavenly  realms  no  less 

Some  loss  the  price  of  every  gain  ; 
Clothed  with  this  frailer  being,  so 

To  medicine  our  mortal  pain, 
Immortals  taste  of  mortal  woe. 


SONG 


• — OF — 


HAYO-WENT-HA 


What  titne  (he  Wa-ira',s  honkinf/  chtixj 
Betokened  glad  the  quickened  //ear, 

The  mating  birds  their  carols  sang, 
Far  through  the  forest  ringing  clear;  — 

Oft  he  that  bore  a  prophet -heart , 
When  lore  had  touched  its  deeper  spring, 

Sotne  tender  lag,  with  simple  ati, 
Unto  his  homelg  pipe  would  sing. 


A  nd  I —  0  iinforgotten  dags  ! — 
]Vill  bring  to  charm  mg  deeper  jjcdn 

Some  fragment  of  the  olden  lags:  — 
Will  wake  that  woodland  lute  again. 


VI 


SONG    OF    HAYO-WENT-HA, 


He  is  greatest  who  is  wisest. 

Love  replies  : 
Not  enough  for  Hayo-weiit-ha 

To  be  \y  ise  ; 
What  by  precept,  0  my  People  ! 

I  can  give, 
Have  I  taught  you  ;  by  example 
Would  I  teach  you  how  to  live. 


He  that  wisest  is  is  greatest  ; 

Yet  on  all. 
Howsoever  high  or  lowly, 

Sorrows  fall ; 
To  be  great  is  to  be  lonely  ; 

Where  is  she, 
Lovely  Kax-a,  beauteous  nuiiden  — 
Hayo-went-ha's  bride  to  be  ? 


f 

^ 

Z  i 

1      * . 
)  J  1 

H      i 

:ai 

62 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


I  hjivo  heard  liim  —  Miid-je-kee-wis  — 

When  he  came 
From  tlie  mighty  Es-c(jn-iiw-bii\v 

Of  the  phiin,  *   . 

Tellhig  of  the  l>riiv(;  Dacotuh's 

Daughters  fair ; 
Ami  methought  —  does  she,  the  heauteous, 
]  Fayo-went-ha's,  wander  there  ? 


Nor  less  famed  is  the  Ojil)-\vay 

Maiden,  she 
Dwelling  ])y  the  GitclK;  Ciumee's 

Farthest  sea. 
But  1  mind  me,  all  things  distant 

Fairer  show ; 
Lofty  Yo-nond's  glittering  summit 
Nearer  seen,  is  only  snow. 


Though  the  far-off  beauty  beckons 

Like  a  star, 
Oft  we  miss  the  good  that  might  be, 

Following  far ; 
Oft  the  flower  sweet  opening  for  us 

Loving  eyes, 
All  unseen,  though  close  beside  us, 
Fragrance-laden  blooms  and  dies. 


SOXO  OF  UAYO-WEXr-llA. 


63 


Nor  wliat  time  unto  the  sunset . 

Liind  I  strayed, 
Siiw  T  ever  l)y  the  wigwuui's 

Mat  and  sluide, 
Maid,  that  hearing  meek  and  fitting 

Maiden's  i)art, 
AVould  —  the  hride  of  Ilayo-went-hu 
Chidden  more  his  home  and  lieart. 


AVhat  is  to  the  meadow  Seg-wun's 
Warmth  and  light, 

Fair  AVo-ne-da  softly  shining. 
To  the  night. 

Would  the  cheerful  smiles  of  Yong-we 
I3e — mine  own  ! 

To  the  heart  of  Hayo-went-lui — 
To  liis  wiffwam  waitingr  lone. 


What  unto  the  how  that  draws  it 

Is  the  string. 
String  and  how  unto  the  arrow — 

Everything ; 
What  is  each  unto  the  other. 

Such  are  j'e. 
Shaped  and  wrought,  0  Man  and  Woman  ! 
To  one  use  and  destiny. 


■  ; 


64 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Owjiy-neo,  Thou  the  iJij^hty 

High  above, 
Hayo-went-ha's  hope  is  only 

111  thy  love ; 
Thou  alone  canst  yield  the  dear  one 

To  his  sight ; 
Let  thy  wiser  spirit  hnid  him  — 
Lead  his  wandering  steps  aright. 

Now  I  mind  me  of  a  maiden, — • 

So  they  say, 
Where  Tio-to  softl}'  murmurs 

All  the  day 
To  tlie  sighing,  sad  ()gh-ne-ta 

Greening  there, 
Dwells  the  beauteous  Kax-aa, — she 
Nyah-tah-wanta,  good  and  fair. 


Oh  how  oit  some  chiel'eteL  blessing 

We  go  by, 
Never  rveii  of  it  dreaming, 

Though  so  nigh; 
Till  some  happy  hour  ro'eals  it. 

When  we  say — 
Not  — "Thou  Oway-neo  blessed  !" 
Only  this  —  "A  happy  day." 


HONG   OF  JIAYO-WEXr-IH. 


65 


In  the  foregone  time  of  fasting, "' 
Whence  1  drew 

Smile  and  l)lessing  of  the  mighty 
Manito, 

Witli  tlu'  Avisdoni  of  tlu'  Me(his 
Did  I  see 

Far  the  vision  of  the  future  — 
Vision  of  tlu  dava  to  he. 


See  in  mystic  light  that  brightened 

All  the  hind, 
Every  i)eople,  tribe  and  nation, 

Clan  and  band. 
That  far  Council-fires  should  beacon, 

Not  in  vain  ; 
Painted  warriors,  armed  and  girded, - 
Mighty  chieftains,  battle-slain. 


Uu. 


And  al)ove  the  cloud  and  darkness, 

Clang  of  War, 
Saw  I  one  serenely  smiling 

Like  0  "ta:* ; 
And  the  more  th;\  ^  dream  I  ponder. 

More,  meseems, 
She,  Ti-o-to's  lowly  m:Jden, 

Like  that  maiden  of  my  dreams. 


66 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Once  again,  as  in  the  vision 

Her  I  see 
liearing  all  love's  toil  and  labor 

Cheerfully ; 
Break  the  sticks  and  patient  bear  them 

From  the  wood ; 
Build  the  fire,  make  bright  the  wigwam, 
As  the  forest-maiden  should. " 

Or  when  Seg-wun  from  the  South-land 

Far  had  come. 
Tending  glad  the  corn  upspringing. 

Stir  the  loam ; 
Or  in  days  the  Falling-leaf  Moon 

More  endears. 
Pluck  the  mighty  Maize  at  harvest — 
Bearing  home  the  ripened  ears. 


And  the  maid,  Nyah-tah-wanta, 

Dwelling  nigh 
Where  Ti-o-to's  billows,  chafing,  ' 

Moan  and  sigh,  — 
She  the  bride  of  Hayo-went-ha  ?  — 

Who  may  tell  ? 
She  is  of  my  noble  People — 
Ongue  Hon  we —  that  is  well.  " 


SONG   OF  HAYO-WEXr-IIA. 


67 


And  I  iniutl  mo  —  I  reiiieiuLor 

It  was  she 
Wove  tlie  royal  robe  and  luaiitle, 

All  for  me  ; 
And  ^vitll  sign,  device  and  symbol 

Wove  it  fair, 
With  the  to-tems  of  my  Nation  — 
With  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  B.'ar. 


And  I  think  me  of  tlie  costly 

Wampum -band ; 
Of  the  snowy  leggins,  beaded 

By  her  hand ; 
Of  the  moccasins  in  Avhose  stitch  is 

Many  a  gem  ; 
Strange  —  so  often  times  to  see  them, — 
Only  now  the  glittering  hem. 


1 


And  a  marvel  more  1  ponder — 

So  I  deem ; 
As  if  still  her  gentle  fingers 

Pressed  the  seam. 
Many  a  wonder  !  —  can  it  be  so  ? 

I  have  thought 

Something  from  the  hand  still  lingers 

In  the  work  the  liand  has  wrought. 
10 


68 


THE  LEAGUE  OF   THE  IliOQVUlS. 


As  we  feel  tlie  coming  sorrow 

Deepen  down, 
Mark  with  tears  the  boding  sliadow 

Fateful  frown, 
Haply  so  a  joy  may  In'ighten 

Far  away. 
Like  the  faint  auroral  shining 
Of  tlie  yet  unrisen  day. 

And  is  tliis  exultant,  throl>l)ing. 

Glad  unrest, 
All  this  tumult  new  of  passion 

In  my  breast, 
The  faint  motions  of  a  rapture. 

Yet  unborn  ? 
But  the  dawn  with  eagle-pinion 
Tliat  so  swift  outruns  the  morn  ? 


He,  Kee-way-din,  softly  whispers, 
Wandering  free, 
"Sweet  the  maid  Nyah-tah-wanta" 
Unto  me  ; 
And  the  charming  maid  to  morrow 

Will  I  see. 
Well,  if  she  be  Ha>o-went-ha's  ;  — 
If  she  be  not  —  let  it  be. 


NYAH-TAII-WANTA 


-^1 


aM 


i 


0  Daughter  of  the  paler-face, 
With  heautij  garmented  !  Not  less 

The  damsel  of  the  Duskg  Race 
Is  clothed  upon  with  loveliness. 

Nor  unadorned  of  simple  Art, 
That  heightens  more  each  virgin  charm; 

Nor  less  her  breast,  with  Woman's  heati 
Yearns,  — throbbing  with  love's  pulses  warm. 


VII 


NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 


f ' 


u;i:i? 


Nyah-tah-wanta  — fair  and  good 
Was  she,  the  warrior-chieftain's  chiki  ; 

And  never  maiden  of  the  wood 
Did  brighten  more  the  forest  wild ; 

None  bear  the  charms  more  modestly 
Of  sweetly-budding  womanhood, 

Nor  worthier  of  love  than  she, 
Child  of  the  bold,  heroic  blood. 


■»fl 


n 


As  one  bereft  when  years  were  fiew, 
And  taught  a  widowed  knee  to  climb. 

She  thoughtful-wise  and  pensive  grew, 
As  shadow  of  a  sorrow-time 

PVom  out  the  unremembered  years, 
Or  wraith  of  love's  forgotten  kiss, 

Still  burdened  with  unfallen  tears 
Those  lids  of  liquid  tenderness. 


72 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Her  voice  was  like  the  wooing  Spring, 
Her  cheek  like  Autumn's  bronzed  liglit ; 

Tier  trei-ses  like  the  Raven's  wing, 
Her  eyes  were  like  the  brooding  night 

With  0-jis-hon-da  shining  through,—^ 
Some  brightness  that  you  might  not  guess ; 

For  when  you  saw  you  only  knew 
You  saw  a  brimming  tenderness. 


0  liglit  in  shade  I  0  land  of  dreams ! 
Deep  in  those  darkened  depths  impearled, 

As  when  Wo-ne-da"s  silver  beams 
Soft-mantle  the  nocturnal  world. 

No  garden  lilies  undeKled, 
YiO  sweets  their  fragrance  may  possess, 

Surpass  the  roses  of  the  wild. 
The  beauty  of  the  wilderness. "' 


Nor  in  all  outward  charms  alone 
She  grew,  as  grows  the  woodlaiul  flower ; 

Though  nurtured  in  the  forest  lone, 
And  with  the  forest-maiden's  dower 

Of  ruder  toil  and  sorest  need. 
So  schooled  was  she  to  do  and  bear. 

That  her  to  know,  you  knew  indeed 
That  one  so  good  must  needs  be  fair. 


NYAH-TAH-  WANTA. 

In  snowy  kirtle  tasseled  gay, 
And  furry  mantle  quilled  and  dyed, 

Her  hand  liad  wrought  so  cunningly 
From  nnuiy  a  Jit-sho's  furry  hide  ; 

In  scarlet  leggins  fringed  Avith  Idue, 
In  j)ainted  moccasins  ])«»aded  grand, 

You  would  have  thought  her — as  was  true 
The  comeliest  maid  in  all  the  land. 

Though  well  she  knew  to  plait  and  braid, 
And  skilled  to  make  or  cloak  or  gown, 

The  richest  robe  that  her  arra3'ed, 
The  beauty  that  is  beauty's  crown. 

That  does  the  fairest  best  adorn, 
AN  as  hers  in  Avigwam-tented  wood : 

The  common  virtues — lowly  born. 
Of  simple,  modest  nuddenhood. 


73 


""^ 

)     f 

j  ; 

; 

i 

■ 

if 


When  on  the  greening  wild  away 
Her  lightsome  footsteps  flitted  free, 

She  .seemed  a  joj'ous  forest-fay— 
A  dusky  Avoodland-fairy  she ; 

And  more  the  while  the  liai)i)y  maid, 
When  gladness  woke  her  simple  art, 

Went  singing  through  the  wind}'  glade 
The  songs  that  fluttered  at  her  heart. 


74 


THE   LEAGUE  OF   THE   lliOQCOlS. 


What  time  her  virgin  footsteps  pressed 
The  border-land  of  Woniunhood, 

When  wakes  a  longing  in  the  breast, 
When  stirs  a  spring-tide  in  the  blood, — 

When  grace  beyond  all  manly  grace 
Unto  the  maid  the  lover  shows, 

While  unto  him  the  maiden-face 
With  splendor  passing  beauty  glows ; 

She  that  the  Meda's  secrets  knew 
Of  mystic  dance  and  chant  and  song, 

Could  presage  read  in  bird  that  flew, 
Knew  all  the  use  of  fasting  long, — 

Invoking  so,  or  strong  or  weak. 
Powers  that  the  will  of  man  await. 

As  youth  and  maiden  may,  did  seek 
Some  token  of  her  happier  fate.  "'^ " 


And  of  that  dream  ? — it  is  not  new, — 
The  chirm  all  nuiiden  hearts  do  own  ; 

The  i)resence  on  her  vision  grew 
Of  one,  nor  haply  all  unknown  ; 

A  warrior-chieftain  ;  on  his  breast 
He  proud  a  royal  mantle  wore  ; 

Well  pleased  she  saw  the  shining  vest, 
But  nobleness  enrobed  him  more. 


NYAJI-TAII-M'AXTA. 


■  !i 


\iU 


Bright  ill  the  sunset's  fiidiiij^  fliiino 
Stood  pictured  on  the  fUrtliest  sky, 

With  to-tenis  of  liis  race  and  name, 
A  shining  wigwam,  wide  and  higli ; 

And  on  its  glowing  sides  were  shown 
All  birds  and  l)easts  —  all  symbols  whence 

The  greatly  wise  may  draw  alone 
Tilt'  mystery  of  the  hidden  sense. 


:m 


She  felt  the  tender  yearnings  draw 
That  know  nor  color,  clime  nor  race ; 

And  from  the  parted  door  she  saw 
Love  beckon  from  her  waiting-i)lace  ;'* 

Oh  !  sweetly  shone  the  couch  and  nnit, 
For  such  a  manly  form  was  there ; 

And  in  the  fire-light,  smiling,  sat 
A  little  maid,  —  and  all  was  fair. 


And  still  the  years  new  beaut}'  lent : 
In  cheerful  toil  that  glad  beguiled 

Her  maiden  cares,  she  came  and  went, 
Far-brightening  all  the  lonely  wiltl ; 

Her  sire,  as  she  more  lovely  grew, 
Oft  musing  with  a  father's  pride. 

Said  —  "He  must  noble  be  and  true 

Who  seeks  my  darling  for  his  bride, 

11 


^1 


%. 


1% 


p 


^ 


7i 


/a 


^^^"     o 


'.^^. 


o? 


« 


^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


m  Ilia 

-  HIM 


M 

12.2 
2.0 

i.8 


1.25 


1.4    111.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


A 


{/ 


^^ 


V 


^ 


fe 


AT  #j)  ^      # 


/. 


^ 


4 


^4^^ 


^  c^ 


h 


,v 


\\ 


^^ 


;v 


6^ 


% 


^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  872-4503 


f^ 


C^n 


76 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


And  many  a  youthful  warrior,  gay 
In  paint  and  plumes,  her  hand  had  sought, 

From  lodge  and  wigwam  far  away  ; 
As  braves  that  come  to  woo,  they  brought 

Of  furry  skins  and  wampum-braid. 
The  costly  gifts  of  forest-art ; 

Such  as  might  win  the  forest-maid  — 
Might  charm  and  win  the  maiden  heart. 


But  not  for  him  from  stranger  land 
Did  she  the  wedding  feast  prepare ; 

Oh  !  not  for  him  the  maiden  liand 
Her  raven  tresses  braided  fair ; 

The  while  she  crooned  this  little  stave. 
Crooned  to  her  waiting  heart,  meseemed  : 

"Oh,  he  is  bold  !  Oh,  he  is  brave  ! 
But  not  the  Mightj'^  that  I  dreamed." 

And  oft  Tio-to's  breast  would  show 
Her  barky  barge  that  lightly  pressed  ; 

While  from  the  glassy  pool  below 
She  drew  0-nox-a's  scaly  breast ; 

Or  patient  fixed  the  tempting  bait. 
Or  Avatched  the  Sali-wa  softly  draw, 

Or  cast  the  deeper  line  to  wait 
Great  Do-di-ah-to's  hungry  jaw. 


NYAH-TAII-  WANT  A. 


11 


And  oft  when  Seg-wun  bright  again 
From  far  with  shining  feet  had  come, 

She  took  great  0-nust's  precious  grain 
And  hid  it  in  the  fruitful  loam  ; 

Made  mellow  round  the  rising  spears, 
Or  watered  oft  each  springing  blade, 

Or  joyful  i)lucked  the  luscious  ears. 
As  meet  and  fit  for  Indian  maid. " 


Or  when  the  Falling-leaf  Moon  hung 
Far-silvering  o'er  the  rustling  reeds, 

What  time  the  Bla:-;u-;  .1  '-litiiely  sung, 
Elate  of  all  the  ripened  seeds , 

Where  bending  many  a  snowy  head 
Afar  the  wild  rice  waving  j:tood, 

She  in  her  Chee-maun  lightly  sped, — 
Gathered  its  kernels  ripe  and  good. 


23 


And  oft  from  ruder  labor  freed, 
With  glowing  cheek  and  eager  tread 

She  wandered  o'er  the  grassy  mead 
To  pick  the  ])erries  ripe  and  red ; 

Or  through  the  brightening  woods  would  roam, 
When  woke  the  autumn's  windy  lays  ; 

From  thence  the  brown  nuts  Ijearing  home 
She  hoarded  for  the  wintry  da3's. 


ill: 


78  THE  LEAGUE   OF   THE   liWCjUOIS. 

Or  patient  wrought  with  pride  and  skill 
Her  moccasins  of  rare  design  ; 

With  head  of  shell  and  hedge-hog  (piill 
Her  fawn-skin  kirtle  hroidercd  fine  ; 

That  at  the  dance  or  Council-place 
She  too  might  stand  all  fair  arrayed, 

With  heightened  beauty's  charm  and  grace ; 
As  best  befits  the  Indian  maid. 


Or  when  from  far  with  shaft  and  bow, 
From  wood  and  wild,  the  hunters  came 

With  Me-sha-way  and  0-kwa-ho, 
A-meek  .and  Yek-wai — noblest  game, 

With  ready  hand  and  maiden  pride 
She  dijftly  stripped  each  ngly  beast 

Of  furry  skin  or  hairy  hide, 
Cooked  fit  the  meat,  and  spread  the  feast. 

What  time,  on  many  a  darkened  d.ay, 
The  braves  and  warriors,  glory-crowned, 

Came  bleeding  from  the  battle-fray, 
Her  gentle  fingers  dressed  the  wound  ; 

With  temler  care  and  cheerful  smile 
She  charmed  each  aching  Ijruise,  nor  vain 

Out-watched  the  paling  stars,  the  while 
She  smoothed  and  soothed  the  couch  of  pain. 


NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 


79 


If  by  her  side,  with  fear  and  pain 
She  saw  at  whiles  pale  Famine  stand, 

When  failed  the  harvest-promised  grain. 
Her  field  laid  waste  by  hostile  band, — 

She  careful  eked  the  failing  store 
In  ways  but  woman  can  devise  ; 

With  patient  trust  her  hunger  bore 
And  all  heroic  sacrifice.  *' 


Above  the  spring-time  floods  that  rise, 
The  Musk-rat  builds  his  winter  tent ; 

So  to  the  forest-maiden's  eyes 
And  mind  another  sense  is  lent ; 

To  see  be3'ond  each  fleeting  form. 
Of  all  the  changeful  seasons  send, 

In  wind  and  rain,  in  cloud  and  storm. 
What  these  may  omen  and  portend. 


itipi 


>  tl-'. 


Though  all  unlearned  in  lettered  lore, 
She  all  the  forest  secrets  knew  ; 

Of  every  beast  the  cry  and  roar, 
The  call  of  every  Inrd  that  flew  ; 

She  heard  anon,  without  aftVight, 
The  Be-zhu 's  mimic  scream  of  woe ; 

Tlie  Jit-sho  yelping  through  the  night. 
The  fiercely-howling  0-kwa-ho. 


•itiii 


80 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


The  Wa-wa  hoiikin<^  on  the  hike, 
Far  on  the  wave  the  lonely  Mahng, 

The  So-ra  quacking  in  the  brake, 
The  stormy  Key-oshk's  noisy  clang  ; 

The  Wa-won-ais-se's  plaint  and  cry, 
The  great  Wir-Ke-neu^s  screech  and  squall, 

0-me-nie's  plaintive  moaii  and  sigli. 
The  Eo-ko-ko-ho's  lonely  call. 


1 

I 

' 

Knew  every  bush  and  shrub  tind  tree, 
The  flowers  that  blossomed  in  the  wood  ; 

All  herbs,  and  what  their  potency, 
And  which  was  ill  and  which  was  good ; 

A  part  of  all  she  saw  so  near, 
In  Nature's  heart  so  immanent. 

Unto  her  finer  sense  and  ear 
All  things  their  deeper  moaning  lent. 

Does  He,  whose  mighty  power  bestows 
The  life  of  all,  great  VVa-zha-wand, 

Crown  with  his  larger  bounty,  those. 
From  these  withhold  with  stinted  hand, — 

The  tribes  and  races  of  mankind  ? 
Bear  one  a  blessing,  one  a  curse  ? 

Or  only  do  we  fail  to  find 
The  measure  meet  for  gifts  diverse  ? '" 


NYAII-TAII-  n'ANTA. 


81 


The  greater  dole  might  liiiu  upbraid 
For  hirgess  thjit  hrings  duller  sense  ; 

For  every  gtiiii  a  price  is  piiid, 
F»)r  every  loss  some  recompense  ; 

He  thut  with  visioned  eye  may  see 
The  shadow  of  a  darker  fate, 

Fore-kens  the  brighter  days  to  be 
No  less, —  and  is  content  to  wait. 


.  v\ 

■  5i 
*  I'T 
i  i'i 


And  many  a  suitor  bold  and  fre(» 
Had  with  the  summers  come  and  gone ; 

She  only  said  —  "It  is  not  lie  ;" — 
Still  patient  waited  for  iieu  own  ; 

Nor  somber  sat  as  one  forlorn. 
Nor  gave  to  pining  sorrow  loose  ; 

For  v,  hat  have  they  of  cause  to  mourn 
Whose  days  are  girt  Avith  love  and  use  ? 


Her  hands  were  quick  to  gentle  deeds, 
She  tentfed  kind  her  failing  sire  : 

She  minded  all  his  little  needs, 
She  brought  the  sticks,  she  built  the  five, 

She  cooked  his  meat,  she  made  him  warm, 
On  her  his  tottering  footstei)s  leant  ;^' 

For  hi?u  she  braved  the  raging  storm 
And  sweetened  all  with  meek  content. 


82 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


0  gentle  Heart !  tliougli  uiiconfessed, 
TJy  purest  maiden  passion  stirred, 

How  had  it  charmed  that  yearning  hreast- 
The  little  song  that  late  I  heard  ! 

That  eye  had  lit  more  softly  warm, 
That  cheek  had  owned  a  deeper  glow. 

That  beauteous,  lithesome  maiden  form 
Had  trembled  like  the  frightened  roe. 


Nor  is  there  maid,  methinks,  so  cold. 
If  she  should  know  at  dawning  light, 

That  ere  Wo-ne-da's  silver  fold 
Shall  press  Yo-non-to's  breast  fco-night. 

Some  wooer  great  would  come  to  woo. 
That  she,  perchance,  would  be  his  bride. 

But  would  her  bosom  flutter  too  — 
Her  glowing  cheek  blush,  crimson  dyed. 


THE    WOOING 


12 


■  hi 

I.    1      c 

1        ,,          :.              '■ 

-1 

-    i 


Oh!  ivJio  with  iongm  so  eloquent 
To  paint  the  rapture  lore  distills, 

That  Jills  the  sjjirit's  grosser  tent 
yVith  breath  from  the  Immortal  Hills  ? 

0  Passion  !  —  that  is  all  replete 
With  deepest  hliss,  with  direst  woe, 

Thy  thrall,  thy  thrill,  thy  madness  sweet. 
The  heart  must,  throbbing,  feel  to  know. 


i 


VIII 


THE    WOOING. 

Moke  beauteous  in  tlie  dawninjj:  light 
Shone  Hayo-went-ha's  prophet-luce, 

As  smile  of  Oway-neo  bright 
Had  lit  anew  each  manly  grace : 

His  brow  of  worthier  purpose  showed, 
His  eye  of  feeling's  kindling  ray  ; 

His  very  step,  as  forth  he  strode, 
Was  lighter  than  of  yesterday. 


His  every  care,  his  every  iihought, 
As  in  the  greatening  morn  he  stood. 

Was  .with  Nyah-tah-wanta  fraught, 
The  flower  of  forest-niaidonhood. 

How  much  may  yearning  wish  impart 
Of  hopes  that  aftyr-harvests  glean  ; 

And  much  I  trow  his  manly  heart 
Did  to  that  gentle  damsel  lean. 


m 


86 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


a 


In  royal  irifintlo  rich  urraycnl,* 
Tliat  lu'ightonetl  more  his  iiianly  air, 

That  sliovved,  in  many  a  to-tem  l)rai<I 
Inwove,  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  Bear  ; 

In  moccasins  witli  the  marvelous  hem, 
In  snowy  le<^«riiis  lieaded  grand, 

Enwrought  with  many  a  curious  gem, 
He  trod  the  Onondaga  strand. 


And  forth  that  wonder-huilt  canoe 
From  ont  its  secret  place  he  hrought, 

Unto  the  pehldy  marge  he  (?'-ew  — 
The  l»ark  hy  mystic  fingers  wrought ; 

That,  as  of  old,  did  gaily  ride. 
The  rippled  wells,  nor  overworn, 

Though  it  liad  crossed  the  swelling  tide 
From  Isles  beyond  the  Gates  of  Morn. 


As  tliough  it  felt  love's  eager  haste, 
Its  harky  sides  more  lightly  })ressed. 

The  flashing  waves  more  fleetly  trticed, 
To  hear  him  on  his  loving  quest ; 

To  far  Ti-o-to  bear  him  hence 
Swift  as  the  Wa-wa\s  wing  and  light, 

Before  the  westering  sun  should  glance 
His  arrows  from  the  rocky  height ;  — 


Tin-:  w'ooisa. 


87 


To  wliere  l)eside  the  «»menil(l  Hooil, 
And  riuliiuit  us  tlie  rising  moni, 

Stood  beiuiteous  in  lier  miiidenhood, 
Stood  mid  tho  summer's  springing  corn 

The  h)veliest  of  forest  nuiids  ; 
To  cjirefnl  pluck  the  wei'dy  spears, 

Miike  mellow  rdund  the  rising  hlades ; 
Glad  counting  on  the  ripened  ears. 

As  frequent  to  each  tender  breast, 
Or  whence  or  wherefore  uU  unknown, 

Will  come  ti  trouble  and  unrest, 
A  tearful  sorrow,  not  its  own, — 

So  oft  above  or  thought  or  will 
May  soar  the  spirit  glad  and  gay. 

Its  pulses  feel  the  joyous  thrill 
Of  other  heart-b«'at  far  away. 


And  to  the  maiden  where  she  stood. 
The  flitting  zephyr's  soft  caress, 

The  dewy,  uewly-burgeoned  wood 
Seemed  burdened  with  a  secret  bliss  ; 

The  tiny  throats  that  warbling  sang. 
More  thrilling  melody  expressed  ; 

Nor  knew  she,  while  their  nuitins  rang, 
Tho  deeper  chord  was  in  her  breast. 


n!if 


88 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


To  grow  great  0-nust's  luscious  grain, 
The  care  and  labor  all  her  own, 

With  but  the  love  to  soothe  her  i)ain. 
Of  him  her  sire,  so  feeble  grown  ; 

If  lonely  oft  with  aching  breast 
Her  lowly  couch  she  weary  sought. 

The  tired  limbs  more  sweetly  rest 
Tn  slumbci  whence  new  strength  is  wrought. 


Her  might  no  evil  omen  dread 
Nor  joy-betokening  prophecy 

Lure  from  the  path  where  duty  led 
Her  willing  footstep's  day  by  day  ; 

Still  round  the  hills  upspringing  green 
She  softly  drew  the  mellow  loam  ; 

AVhile  brightened  more  the  morning  sheen. 
The  morning  sun  still  higher  clomb. 


|i- 1 


And  still  her  patient  hand  she  plied  ; 
Nor  left  her  maiden-toil  to  make 

Her  face  more  seemly  when  she  spied 
That  stranger  Chee-maun  on  the  lake  ; 

Nor  yet  incurious,  bending  low, 
Nor  quite  suppressed  a  chastened  eye  ; 

The  while  her  cheek  a  warmer  glow 
Emmantled  fair,  she  knew  not  why. 


THE    WOOING, 


89 


And  Hayo-weiit-ha,  ere  lie  drew 
That  magic  Chee-maun  on  the  strand, 

When  rose  the  wigwam  full  to  view 
And  all  the  love-enchanted  land, 

To  see  the  maiden  bending  there 
Her  greening  corn  to  tend  and  keep. 

To  mark  the  damsel's  frugal  care, 
llis  heart  did  in  his  bosom  leap. 

And  when  her  lowly  door  beside 
She  looked  on  him  who  waiting  stood 

With  noble  look  of  manly  pride, 
Him,  Hayo-went-ha,  great  and  good, — 

She  felt  again  the  yearnings  draw  ; 
And  in  the  sunset's  failing  gleam 

She  knew  the  chieftain-form  she  saw 
^V"as  he, — the  mighty  of  her  dream. 


And  seeing  near  the  mantle  rare. 
The  mantle  she  had  wrought  for  him, 

The  beauty  she  had  woven  there, 
The  moccasins  with  the  beaded  hem, — 

The  woman  in  her  bosom  stirred 
More  than  the  simple  maiden  guessed  ; 

And  of  her  joy  in  song  of  bird 
Her  heart  the  secret  half  confessed. 


90 


77/ A'  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


If  warmer  lit  with  feeling's  grace 
Ilis  manly  cheek,  when  to  his  gaze 

From  far  the  beauteous  maiden  face 
Looked  on  him  from  the  growing  maize  — 

What  wonder  he,  though  calm  and  wise, 
Should  feel  the  old  world  dance  and  swim 

When  on  him  bent  those  loveful  eyes 
That,  more  than  greeting,  welcomed  him." 

The  while  her  sire  tlie  freedom  gave 
Of  waiting  wigwam's  mat  and  shade, 

As  warrior  brave  to  warrior  brave, 
Apart  and  silent  sat  the  maid  ; 

Or  lightly  tripped  unto  the  lake 
To  bring  him  drink  with  willing  feet, 

Or  glad,  when  he  his  fast  would  break. 
She  modest  brought  and  gave  him  meat. 


He  from  the  bowl  his  thii'st  allayed. 
Nor  with  vain  thanks  did  her  address  ; 

But  sitting  mute  his  hunger  stayed, 
And  rested  of  his  weariness  ; 

Till  far  and  faint  alone  was  heard 
The  home-wind  sighing  through  the  land, 

The  voice  of  night-awakened  bird, 
And  waves  low-lapsing  on  the  sand. 


TUB    WOOING. 


91 


Then  forth  the  aged  chief  he  drew 
111  unforgotten  tales,  to  tell 

Of  warrior  deeds  when  days  were  few, 
Of  braves  that  in  the  bi'itle  feii ; 

And  still,  as  one  with  gifted  speech 
The  fit  occasion  waits,  forbore 

Untimely  thence  to  bring,  iu  breach 
Of  courtesy,  his  fairer  lore. 


11 


Yet  beauty  speaks  through  charm  and  grace 
In  tongue  that  silence  cannot  bind  ; 

So  brightly  shone  his  prophet-face 
AVith  thoughts  that  lit  his  wiser  mind  ; 

And  when  the  shadows  fell  that  make 
The  cheerful  home-fire  brighten  more, 

His  lips  he  loosed ;  and  as  he  spake 
Night,  listening  rapt,  contented  wore. 


He  told  in  lofty  speech  and  wise 
Of  other  wigwams  far  away  ; 

Of  fairer  shores  that  loom  and  rise 
Beyond  the  utmost  bound  of  day  ; 

Of  hunter-homes,  of  tribe  and  band 
Where  more  than  sunset  glory  smile  ■ ; 

Of  Oway-neo's  Shining  Land, 
Of  Inigorio's  Happy  Isles. 


5'f 


n 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE   IROQUOIS. 


Of  all  the  gifts  that  thence  he  hrought, 
Of  all  the  labors  of  his  hand  ; 

How  he  the  hunter-bow  had  wrought, 
Had  slain  the  monsters  of  the  land  ; 

How  every  beast  with  cry  and  rour, 
That  crawled  or  ran  or  swam  or  flew, 

Fell  reeking  red  with  dying  gore — 
Fell  pierced  and  wounded  through  and  through. 

And  of  that  magic-buiit  canoe, 
Nor  paddle  had,  nor  need  of  one  ; 

Of  wider  waves  that  charmed  and  drew 
That  mystic  Chee-maun  —  on,  and  on. 

Of  great  Ki-ha-de's  E-wa-yea, 
Of  farther  tides  that  leap  and  run  ; 

Of  Gitche  Gumee  far  away, 
And  seas  beyond  the  setting  sun. 


And  all  the  sacred  legends  old, 
The  wonders  of  remotest  age  : 

How  Mana-bo-zho  strong  and  bold, 
With  Manitos  did  battle  wage  ; 

And  when  the  floods  came  on  the  laud, 
Whelmed  in  the  sea  the  mountains  tall, 

The  world  destroyed  ;  —  whose  mighty  hand 
Rebuilt  again  —  repeopled  all. 


THE   WOOING. 


93 


Told  of  the  serpent  huge  and  dread 
That  from  a  tiny  reptile  grew  ; 

Of  her  whose  hand  the  arrow  sped, 
Whose  shaft  the  frightful  monster  slew  ; 

Of  dear  Winona's  darker  fate : 
The  maiden  who,  with  heart  so  })rave 

Than  hiui  unknown,  unloved,  to  wed 
Chose  death  beneath  the  darkened  wave. 


Told, —  so  to  show,  in  wedded  life, 
How  needful  to  he  mated  well, — 

Of  him  that  took  a  liear  to  wife, 
And  of  the  ills  that  thence  hefell. 

And  glad  they  hearkened  :  —  while  he  spake 
The  listeniug  hours  unlieeded  wore. 

Oh  !  ibr  the  storied  gift  to  wake 
The  spell  of  that  diviner  lore  ! 


Whatever  heights  the  tongue  can  reach 
Of  all-commanding  eloquence, 

Hut  half  is  in  the  gift  of  speech, — 
For  half  is  in  the  listening  sense  ; 

Unto  such  ears  he,  spt  .iking  late, 
Did  all  the  seals  of  Kuowledge  loose, — 

Knowledge  that  doth  on  W^isdom  wait 
To  widen  lift-  in  Love  aud  Use. 


94 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 


Though  to  her  sire  alone  he  spake, 
Scarce  minding  where  the  maiden  sat 

So  maiden- wise,  —  nor  deigned  to  break 
His  lofty  mood  ;  low  from  her  mat, 

Nor  bold,  nor  over  modestly, 
Ever  a  finer  ear  she  lent ; 

Listened — as  only  woman  may — 
Upon  his  deeper  thought  intent."* 


But  all  tilings  pass  and  go  ;  the  blaze 
Unfed,  burned  dim ;  into  the  Past 

The  vision  of  the  vanished  days 
Fading,  again  withdrew  ;  at  last 

AVith  some  low,  half-unuttered  word 
The  tale  was  ended  ;  there  did  fall 

A  silence,  —  or  alone  was  heard 
Afar  the  Ko-ko-ko-ho's  call. 


Ar-'  deep  on  manly  limbs  erelong 
Was  soft  the  balm  of  slumber  laid  ; 

But  joy  that  beats  with  pulse  too  strong 
Is  kin  to  sorrow  ;  so  the  maid. 

In  vain  her  midnight  couch  she  pressed  ; 
No  sleep  could  bind  the  tender  eyes. 

For  all  the  tumult  of  her  breast  — 
For  thoughts  of  him  so  good  and  wise. 


.  1 


THE   WOOING. 

0  maiden  Heart !  so  warm  and  true, 
That  hath,  like  her,  such  vigil  kept, 

Or  ere  the  morn,  of  bliss  so  new. 
The  pain  a  little  stayed,  hath  slept. 

Dreaming  sweet  dreams  that  will  not  pass- 
Aye !  from  the  darkened  years  ;  —  to  thee 

Why  should  I  sing  ?  —  to  wake,  alas  ! 
Too  oft  a  haunting  memory. 


95 


And  who  with  tongue  so  eloquent 
To  paint  the  rapture  love  distills, 

That  fills  the  spirit's  grosser  tent 
With  breath  from  the  Immortal  Hills  ? 

0  Passion  !  that  is  a)l  replete 
With  deepest  bliss  —  with  direst  woe. 

Thy  thrall,  thy  thrill,  thy  niadness  sweet 
The  heart  must,  throbbing,  feel  to  know. 


Or  what  is  said,  or  all  unsaid. 
But  little  recks,  when  fleet  and  strong, 

O'er  cheek  and  breiist  the  currents  red 
Run — singing  glad  a  marriage  song  ; 

When  other  heart  beats  in  our  own, 
Disclosing  to  each  keener  sense 

The  wealth  and  being,  else  unknown. 
Of  beauty's  lavish  heritance. 


96 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IHOQUOIS. 


Enough  :  —  when  Hiiyo-\vent-ha  cuiiie 
Home  from  Ti-o-to  fur  away, 

Eiihaloed  as  with  robe  of  flame, — 
The  splendor  of  h)ve's  risen  day, 

His  every  heightened  manly  grace 
]3espoke  how  well  the  wooing  sped  ; 

Foretold  the  glory  of  his  face  — 
Nyah-tah-wauta  he  would  wed. 


And  many  an  after  day  it  grew — • 
That  larger  brightness  brightened  more, 

When  at  the  dawn  he  came  and  drew 
Ilis  Chee-maun  to  the  pebljly  shore  ; 

As  if  with  heart  of  love  elate 
Its  barky  sides  more  lightly  pressed 

The  springing  tide,  as  loth  to  wait 
To  bear  him  on  his  loving  quest. 


S()N( 


OK- 


NYAII-TAJI-WANTA. 


Her  little  lays  with  joy  replete 
Or  sad  with  maiden  care,  she  sang; 

Like  to  O-me-ine,  softly  sweet. 
Or  mournful  as  the  lonely  Mahng 
At  midnight  on  the  summer  seas. 

The  lips  can  set  to  fairest  tunes 
The  lores  that  lowliest  hearts  enthrall; 

0  woodland  Odes  !  O  forest  Runes  I 
I  would  I  more  might  these  recall; 
The  Heart's  unwritten  Melodies. 


He,  till 


IX 


SONG   OF  NYAII-TAH-WANTA. 


SoAN-GE-TAHA  !  —  Soiiii-gt'-taliii  hnive  and  strong! 
0  my  sweetlii'urt !  O  lielovcd  !  waited  long  ; 
Thee,  the  Mighty,  in  my  vi^iion  did  I  see  ; 
When  I  hjok  on  my  beloved  —  it  is  when 
I  look  on  Thee.* 
And  the  twinkling  O-jis-hon-da,  brightly  twinkling, 

Seem  to  tell  : 
'^Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wania, — ■ 

That  is  well/' 


t  A**    .J-     —   - 

IK     j. 


1  f uyo-wcnt-ha,  Hayo-went-ha,  great  is  he  ; 
Come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta  —  can  it  be  ? 
And  he  calls  her  lovely  Kax-aa — is  it  so  ? 
But  a  lowly,  simple  maid — Nyah-tah-wanta 
That  I  know. 
He,  the  Home-wind,  sweet  Kee-way-din,  soothly  singing, 

Seems  to  tell : 
"Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 
U 

*See  the  "  Ojibwa  Song"  in  Oneota.— By  II.  R.  ScnooLCKAFT. 


;    -i  '•   ? 


100 


THE  LKAGUK   OF  THE  JIHX^i'OIS. 


l! 


Where  the  iiiurniuring  Yo-yo-hon-to  through  tlie  ghide, 
Softly  singing,  smiling  lingers  in  the  shade, 
Have  I  seen  a  h)vely  maiden  look  at  me  ; 
If  she  is  Nyah-tuh-wanta,  she  is  i)retty, 

I  can  see. 
And  the  streamlet's  tinkling  mnrmur,  rippling,  rippling, 

Seems  to  tell ; 
'*  Hayo-went-ha  eouK;  to  woo  Nyah-tah-vvanta, — 

That  IS  well." 


He  the  Chief  of  all  our  warriors  ?  —  so  they  say; 
All  the  Onguk  Honwe  People  own  his  sway; 
Seems  to  me,  he  surely  can't  be  —  or,  for  pride 
He  would  seek  some  noble  Kax-aa,  —  queenly  maiden. 

For  his  bride. 
Mud-je-ke-wis,  in  the  cedars,  sighing,  sighiixg. 

Seems  to  tell : 
'*  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


Simple  maid  Nyah-tah-wanta,  but  no  less 

Does  she  bear  the  heart  of  Yong-we,  and  would  press. 

All  her  own,  the  mother's  darlings  to  her  breast ; 

On  her  dearest  Nee-nee-moosh-a's  brave  and  manly 

Heart  would  rest. 


SONG    OF  y  YA II  -  TA II  -  If  M  S  TA . 


101 


Wii-won-iiis-so  ill  the  Leaf  Moon  sweetly  plaiuting 

Seems  to  tell : 
"lliiyc)-weiit-lm  come  to  woo  Nyuh-tah-waiita, — 

That  is  well." 


What  the  flower  is  to  the  meadow,  blooming  fair, 
Brightening  all  the  lonely  i)laces  everywhere, 
If  the  bride  of  Hayo-weut-lia,  would  I  be 
To  the  heart  of  Hayo-went-ha,  —  to  the  home 
He  builds  for  me. 
Dear  O-me-me,  in  the  fir-tree,  cooing,  cooing, 

Seems  to  tell : 
''  llayo-weut-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well.'' 


I  would  weave  a  royal  mantle  ;  it  should  bear 
All  the  to-tems  of  his  Nation,  passing  fair ; 
Fairer  than  the  one  I  wove  him  when  I  knew 
Only  Hayo-went-ha,  mighty,  —  not  the  loving 
Heart  and  true. 
On  the  lake  the  babbling  So-ra,  quacking,  quacking. 

Seems  to  tell : 
''  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


mw 


102 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


And  when  Seg-wun  from  the  South-land  comes  again, 
I  would  plant  the  luscious  0-nust  on  the  plain  ; 
Careful  tend  the  blades  upspringing, — stir  the  loam ; 
Pluck  the  ripened  ears  at  harvest ;  bear  the  precious 

Burden  home. 
A-ro-se-a  in  the  tree-top  chattering,  chattering. 

Seems  to  tell : 
"  Ilayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


?i'  ■; 


When  the  wigwams  iu  the  Snow-moon  silver  shine, 
I  would  pound  the  dainty  kernel,  pound  it  fine ; 
With  the  fat  of  Yek-wai  mix  it,  sweetest  cake, 
Make  and  bake  it  all  so  nicely,  —  all  for 
Hayo-went-ha s  sake. 
Far  the  Ka-ka  on  Yo-non-to  cawing,  cawing. 

Seems  to  tell : 
"  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta,  — 

That  is  well." 


I 


When  Ivah-sah-git  in  his  snow-shoes  o'er  the  hill 
Scatters  wide  the  shining  0-kah,  falling  chill, 
Far  would  noble   Hayo-went-ha  with  his  bow 
Hunt  the  Mo-sa  and  the  Yek-wai  and  the  fiercer 
0-kwu-ho. 


SONG  OF  NVAH-TAH'WANTA. 


103 


On  the  wave  the  noisy  Wa-wa,  honking,  honking^ 

Seems  to  tell : 
"Hiiyo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


When  the  Council-fire  would  brighten  far  away, 
Calling  tribe  ami  band  that  proudly  own  his  sway, 
Thither  in  his  magic  Chee-maun  would  he  go  ; 
He  his  larger  mind  and  wiser  in  his  gifted 
Speech  would  show. 
Screaming  bold,  the  great  War-Ke-neu,  squalling 

Squalling,  seems  to  tell : 
"  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta,  — 

That  is  well." 


By  the  wigwam,  long  and  lonely  though  I  wait, 
I  would  charm  the  hours  with  labor ;  I  would  mate 
With  my  larger  love  his  wisdom's  fairer  store  ; 
And  the  after-joy  of  meeting  would  long  parting 
Heighten  more. 
From  the  wood  the  Ko-ko-ko-ho,  hooting,  hooting, 

Seems  to  tell : 
"llayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


L- 


104 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


And,  —  0  joy  !  if  I  should  bear  him,  so  requite 
Mighty  love  with  gifts  so  worthy,  sons  of  might ; 
Happy  they  in  such  a  father  ;  as  they  grew 
I  would  teach  them  to  be  ever  noble  warriors. 
Brave  and  true. 
Great  Da-hin-da,  in  the  fenland,  croaking,  croaking, 

Seems  to  tell : 
"  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-ta-wanta, — 

That  is  well." 


And  enough  for  me  the  easing  of  his  care  ; 
He  would  call  me  always  kindly,  think  me  fair ; 
And  for  all  the  love  I  bear  him,  I  would  find 
Something  of  ^is  wiser  being  shining  in  my 

Darker  mind. 
Far  Tio-to's  billows  lapsing,  softly  lapsing. 

Seem  to  say  : 
"  Hayo-went-ha  come  to  woo  Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

E-wa-yea." 


!      i-l 


Ojoy  all  other  joy  ahore  ! 
No  other  joy  surpasseth  this, 

The  fairest  gift  to  mortal  —  Love. 
Oh,  foretaste  of  Immortal  hliss 

By  lowly  maiden  heart  possessed  ! 
Nor  hers  aloue  :    The  great  and  irise 

Do  own  tcithin  a  deeper  breast 
That  Heaven  is  in  loving  eyes. 


c 


1 


THE    liRlDAL. 


What  time  tlie  Falling-leaf  Moon  hung 
Her  faintest  crescen-t  on  the  sky, 

When  to  the  woods  the  Home-wind  sung 
A  sweetly  soothing  lullahy  ; 

He,  Hayo-went-ha,  rich  arrayed 
In  royal  mantle,  woven  fair, 

Where  bright  in  many  a  to-tem  braid 
Shone  fierce  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  Bear ; 


In  snowy  leggins  beaded  grand, 
The  moccasins  with  the  marvelous  hem. 

Upon  his  breast  the  wampum-band 
Inwrought  with  many  a  curious  gem ; 

As  musing  on  that  dearer  friend, 
Or  chance  a  deeper  thought  he  bore 

Of  life,  its  duties,  aim  and  end, — 

Trod  proud  the  Onondaga  shore. 

15 


.  '■   'I  ■'  '  " 


108 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


And  like  the  rising  morning  grew 
The  larger  brightness  of  his  face, 

When  at  the  dawn  he  came  and  drew 
His  Chee-maun  from  its  liiding-i>lace ; 

That,  as  with  yearning  heart  elate. 
The  springing  tide  more  lightly  pressed- 

Danced  on  the  wave,  as  loth  to  wait 
To  bear  him  on  his  loving  quest. 


It  erst  had  many  n  storm  withstood  ; 
Had  borne  him  in  the  days  ))efore 

To  slay  the  monsters  of  the  flood  — 
Great  Ke-ka-dah-nong  on  the  shore ; 

And  far  on  many  a  stranger  sea : 
Wherever  most  might  knowledge  loose 

Her  sacred  seal,  or  glory  be  ; 
But  now  should  prove  its  nobler  use. 


It  parts  the  shore  : — Lo  !  sapphire-lit, 
Swift  on  the  rii)pling  Avave  it  drew ; 

As  o'er  the  mere  the  sluidows  flit 
Of  clouds  that  sail  the  summer  blue  ; 

The  parted  waves  like  rul)ies  showed, 
More  softly  lapsed  the  sighing  marge  ; 

The  kindling  dawn  more  golden  glowed,- 
A  warmer  wish  impelled  the  barge. 


THE  BRIDAL. 


109 


The  White  Swan  singing  on  the  hike 
Unto  his  ear  more  joyous  sang  ; 

More  sweetly  sad  from  out  the  brake 
The  moaning  of  the  lonely  Mahng  ; 

The  soaring  Ke-neu's  screech  and  squall, 
The  Wa-be-wawa  honking  near, 

The  soaring  Key-oshk's  harsher  call 
Seemed  mellowed  to  his  charmed  ear. 


A  music  shook  the  quiet  air 
Like  tinkling  bells  of  silver  sound  : 

The  gliuimering  blue  o'er-beiuliug  there 
Seemed  Avith  love's  holiest  circlet  bound. 

All  Nature  is  but  outward  Man  ; 
He  hears  alone  the  melodies 

Within  his  breast ;  nor  other  than 
The  beauty  in  his  soul  he  sees. 


'?■ 


While  she  that  by  Ti-o-to  stood 
Fair  in  the  autumn's  windy  da3's, 

To  pluck  great  0-uust  rii)e  and  good, 
To  pluck  and  strip  the  mighty  Maize, — 

As  blithe  and  gbid  she  came  and  went, 
Upon  the  lake  —  and  hushed  her  song  — 

Anon  a  yearning  look  she  bent ; 
For  brief  delay  to  love  is  long. 


110 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Again  she  broods  her  little  care 
And  voices  so  her  bosom-pain, 

Such  pain  as  maiden  bosoms  bear : 
"  Oh  !  will  that  Chee-maun  come  again, 

That  Chee-maun  from  the  fairer  shore  ? 
Or  ever  must  I  lonely  wait  ? 

Will  Hayo-went-ha  come  no  more — 
Or  is  he  good  as  he  is  great  ?  " 

"Blest  Ovvay-neo  high  above, 
Bless  her,  the  lowly  maiden,  pray  ; 

Nor  her  alone  keep  in  thy  love, — 
Keep  him,  the  loved  one  far  away. ''  ■'' 

And  ever  as  the  morning  wore. 
While  to  her  willing  task  she  bent, 

To  Hayo-went-ha  more  and  more 
Her  heart  in  tender  yearnings  went. 


But  when  beyond  the  pebbl}'  marge 
Again,  with  love  delighted  eyes. 

She  saw  afar  that  mystic  barge. 
Saw  Hayo-went-ha  great  and  wise ,  — 

Forgetting  all  love's  care  and  smart. 
What  rr"e  delights  her  bosom  swayed  ! 

What  rapture  thrilled  that  gentle  heart - 
Fell  like  a  mantle  on  the  maid  ! 


THE  lilUDAL. 


Ill 


And  if  beside  the  waiting  sea 
Her  pulse  a  deeper  joy  confessed 

To  mark  tliat  Chee-raaun  speeding  free, 
Oh  !  how  divine  a  peace  and  rest 

The  maiden  bosom  owned,  when  near 
She  saw  him  by  the  wigwam  stand  ; 

With  him  the  mat  again  to  share, 
And  chisp  again  tliat  dearer  liand. 

With  sometliing  of  tlie  oklen  fire 
Of  Ongue  Honwe's  lofty  mood, 

Uprose  the  maiden's  aged  sire 
To  friendly  greet  him  where  he  stood  ; 

To  make  for  Hayo-went-ha  free 
The  wigwam's  fairest  couch  and  rest ; 

With  pipe  and  meat^nd  courtesy 
Give  welcome  to  his  noble  guest. '* 


And  charming  all  the  twilight  shade, 
Of  deeds  of  other  days  they  tell ; 

Of  hunter  chase  o'er  hill  and  glade. 
Of  braves  that  in  the  battle  fell ; 

And  all  the  home-delighting  tales,  — 
Till  by  some  saddened  memory  crossed, 

Unfinished,  late  the  story  fails, — 
Still  musing  on  the  loved  and  lost. 


112 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 


While  slie,  the  maiden,  sat  apart 
Content  to  see  the  hour  prolong, 

Sat  softly  crooning  to  her  heart 
Some  stave  of  lov(?-avvakened  song. 

And  so  the  darkness  more  and  more 
To  silence  fell,  till  all  was  still, 

Save  waives  low-lapsing  on  the  shore 
And  Warwon-ais-se's  plainting  shrill. 

But  when  the  night  was  overpiussed, 
When  lasted  of  his  weariness, 

And  he  again  had  broke  his  fast, — 
As  he  would  all  his  heart  confess, 

From  out  his  Chee-maun  forth  he  bore 
And  wide  the  costly  treasures  spretid. 

Such  as  might  friendship  heighten  mor. 
And  Hayo-went-ha,  speaking,  said  : 


"As  is  our  people's  custom,  so 
I  bring  you  gifts  ;  such  gifts  as  be 

Not  all  unworthy ;  yet  I  know 
What  in  return  I  ask  of  thee 

The  richest  boon  can  never  buy  ; 
In  more  than  friendly  bond  allied, 

I  seek  in  these  love's  dearer  tie  — 
I  seek  this  maiden  for  my  bride." 


TIIK   niilDAL. 


118 


Incurious  of  ouch  costly  l)riii(l, 
The  iigcd  ('hict'tiiiii  from  his  mat 

Put  hy  his  pijM',  h)oketl  on  the  maid 
And  lonely  musing,  silent  sat ;" 

As  he  her  heart  would  question  so, 
Or  through  the  rising  mist  of  tears 

"Ffir-looking  into  eyes  that  glow 
And  brighten  from  the  vanished  ye'ars. 


"Take  her,  0  Hayo-went-lia  !  —  she 
Is  all  thine  own,"  hespoke  her  sire ; 

''  I  scorn  not  gifts  like  thine  to  me, 
But  love  is  more  than  vain  desire. 

0  take  her  ! — she  with  thee  will  go ; 
And  wifely-wise  her  heart  shall  hear 

The  name  and  fame  thou  dost  bestow. 
And  worthy  thou  of  bride  so  fair/' 


What  bliss  her  lowly  toiling  lent 
Through  all  the  beauteous  autumn  days ; 

For  not  alone  the  maiden  went 
To  joyous  pluck  the  ruddy  Maize. 

How  quick  and  strong  the  hands  to  dare. 
When  love  their  labor  more  endears  ; 

For  Hayo-went-ha,  he  would  bear 
The  burden  of  the  ripened  ears.^ 


31) 


'f,   f 


:  ^  S;  !• 


ipplf 


114 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  JltOQUOJS. 


0  Lovo  !  tlioii  lendst  ca  heightoned  charm 
Not  to  the  maiden's  l)row  jdoiie ; 

No  less  upon  his  luiiiily  form 
Thy  jill-e!Uiol)ling  pn^seiice  shone, — 

With  ri  celestial  luster  glowed, 
His  every  feature  lightened  through  ; 

His  very  step,  as  forth  he  strode. 
Seemed  quickened  with  that  rapture  new. 

As  glad  the  orient's  kindling  glow 
The  hastening  day  hetcdiens  wide, 

So  heauty's  rarer  splendors  show 
The  maiden  ripening  to  the  hride  ; 

Her  hosoni  throbs  more  tenderly, 
More  risrely  shines  each  nniiden  grace; 

More  lovely  than  the  nniid,  we  see 
The  woman  in  the  maiden  face. 


Love  —  only  love,  a  beauty  wears ; 
If  touching  but  her  shining  hem 

The  plainest  way-side  damsel  bears 
More  than  a  jewelled  diadem. 

And  oh,  what  art  can  heighten  more 
The  peerless  charms  that  her  adorn. 

When  she  that  was  so  fair  before, 
Transfigured,  waits  the  nuptial  morn  ! 


THK  BRIDAL. 


115 


On  her,  the  forest's  lowly  nuiid, 
Robed  on  with  every  virgin  grace, 

Whose  proudest  wish  had  never  strayed 
Beyond  the  Yong-we's  home  and  phiee. 

How  passing  fair  love's  mantle  shone ; 
Love  bears  the  true  enchanter's  wand, 

And  beauty  wrought  of  love  alone 
Is  beauty  of  the  Morning  Land. 


Calm  lit  thy  bridal,  dawning  bright ; 
Thy  heart  no  baser  feeling  moved  ; 

And  Nature  smiled  her  dear  delight, 
And  Oway-neo  glad  approved 

The  chastened  nuptial  tie  and  band 
Of  hearts  by  simple  love  allied, 

When  thou,  nor  unadorned,  didst  stand 
The  noble  Hayo-went-ha's  bride. 

More  tender  woke  the  woman's  tone, 
While  like  the  morning's  ruby  rise 

A  radiant  splendor  round  thee  shone — 
Looked  beauteous  from  thy  starry  eyes, 

O'er  cheek  and  breast  emmantled  Avarm  ; 
When  thou,  in  all  thy  maiden  charms. 

Didst  yield  thy  lovely  maiden  form 

To  Hayo-went-ha's  manly  arms. 

16 


1 


'I*  ! 
1'^ 


S!i 


'f 


ii.-e- 

-4\ 


■  -i--£jf| 


.5  ' : 


;]   : 


116  THE  LEAGoE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 

Near  in  the  rapture-burdened  b'ue, 
And  dancing  with  love's  fairy  feet, 

The  twinkling  0-jis-hon-da  drew, 
Peeped  —  conscious  of  love's  secret  sweet ; 

Wo-ne-da,  winging  o'er  the  wold. 
Clasped  in  the  yearning  arms  of  Night, 

Put  back  her  bosom's  cloudy  fold. 
Made  crimson  with  the  nevr  delight. 


The  wood  through  all  its  leafiness 
Stood  —  thrilled  with  maiden  tenderness; 

The  yearning  sea  returned  the  kiss, 
And  blushed,  of  Mornings  fond  caress. 

The  bridal  waves  ecstatic  swam, 
Lapsed  fainting  on  tne  loving  shore  ; 

The  Zephyr,  bearing  nectar-balm. 
Fell,  drunken  with  the  bliss  it  boro,  — 


A.S  forth  they  wancenKl  hand  in  hand. 
Approved  by  Nature's  mother-heart. 

Love  well  had  wrought  the  nuptial  band,- 
What  more  might  solemn  rite  impart  ? 

If  love  the  wedding  feast  prepare. 
Love  at  the  marriage  banquet  wait, 

More  than  the  priestly  hand  is  there; 
The  very  air  is  consecrate. 


I 
#- 

f 

\ 


0  Flower  of  Love !  though  wildling  born, 
Your  lowly  buds  that  blossom  free 

Do  fair  the  tree  of  life  adorn, 
That  else  had  been  a  barren  tree. 


Though  fragrance  sweet  beyond  compute 
Is  thine,  and  beauty  passing  praise, 

More  precious  far  the  ripened  fruit 
We  garner  in  the  After  Days. 


XI 


THE    AFTER-DAYS. 

Where  singing  like  a  joyous  thing 
Went  Yo-yo-hon-to  on  its  way, 

Where  on  the  night-wind's  lightest  wing 
Came  up  Ti-o-to's  "  E-wa-yea," 

There,  beauteous  on  the  grassy  strand 
And  near  beside  the  sheltering  wood, 

And  wrought  by  Ilayo-went-ha's  hand, 
The  new-built  wigwam  brightly  stood. 


And  patient  toiled  he  many  a  day 
AVith  sinew-string  and  barky  thong. 

With  loop  and  seam  and  stitch  and  stay. 
Intent  to  make  it  firm  and  strong. 

Then  forth  he  went  with  shaft  and  bow 
And  many  a  hairy  skin  he  bore. 

Of  Yek-wai  aiul  of  0-kwa-ho, 
And  softly  matted  all  the  floor. 


,.H;r 


120 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


'^9 


To  charm  and  guard  liis  home  and  place 
Its  barky  sides  he  pictured  fair 

Witli  to-teras  of  his  name  and  race, — 
Where  fierce  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  Bear 

High  on  its  barky  cover  shone  ; 
Each  type  Jiiid  symbol,  such  as  thence 

The  greatly  wise  may  draw  alone 
The  mystery  of  the  hidden  sense. 

And  there  he  brought  the  aged  sire, 
And  there  Nyah-tah-wanta  came  ; 

She  broke  the  sticks,  she  built  the  lire, — 
While  sweeter  than  the  crackling  flame 

The  song  that  murmured  in  her  heart, 
So  overfull  of  love's  unrest. 

Oh  !  love  can  wake  the  songful  art 
That  slumbers  in  the  rudest  breast. 


Glad  wore  the  days,  with  j'>y  allied, 
Of  Ilayo-went-ha's  hunter-life ; 

And  she  that  was  a  beauteous  bride 
More  beauteous  ripened  to  the  wife  ; 

And  if  at  whiles  overwearied  pressed 
The  feet  the  household  burdens  bore. 

It  sweetened  more  the  after-rest ; 
Love-lit,  the  Home-fire  brightened  more. 


THE  AFTER-DAYS. 


121 


But  fairest  life  will  sorrows  dim  : 
Erelong,  with  mighty  arm  and  cold, 

Dread  0-wah-ai-gut  came  for  him  — 
Her  sire  —  more  feeble  grown  and  old, 

And  bore  him  to  the  Better  Land; 
Land  that  the  dim  horizon  bounds, 

Where  roams  each  dusky  tribe  and  band- 
The  nobler  Spirits'  Hunting  Grounds. 

And  him  they  dressed  with  loving  care : 
They  wrapped  him  in  his  blanket  new, 

His  moccasins  that  were  beaded  fair, 
His  snowy  leggins  softly  drew  ;  ^* 

His  brow  they  bound  with  warrior-band 
And  crowned  it  with  the  eagle-plume ; 

They  laid  his  war-club  in  his  hand, 
Then  bore  him  to  the  waiting  tomb. 


And  Hayo-went-ha,  through  his  tears, 
Said,  speaking  to  the  chieftain  gone  : 

"O  thou  whom  parting  more  endears, 
Belov«>d  !  who  hast  jouni'  yed  on. 

Albeit  a  Aveary  way  and  long, 
To  land  where  noble  Hunters  dwell, 

The  Mighty  Warriors,  brave  and  strong, 
0  !  Knee-ha,  Father  !  fare  thee  well,"'" 


122 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS . 


Nyali-tah-wanta's  deeper  pain 
Her  trenibliiig  lips  but  ill  expressed ; 

Her  tears  were  like  the  summer  rain, 
And  like  the  rain,  they  soothed  and  blest ; 

Her  cheek  the  sod  in  anguish  pressed, 
But  not  for  long  ;  she  leaned  her  head 

On  Hayo-went-ha's  manly  breast 
And  wept  —  and  then  was  comforted. 

Again  the  days  in  beauty  wore  : 
Erelong  Nyah-tah-wanta  pressed  — 

The  dream  her  maiden  bosom  bore  — 
Her  darling  to  her  mother's  breast. 

As  to  Nyah-tah-wanta  he 
In  all  the  years  had  dearer  grown, 

So,  in  her  motherhood,  was  she 
More  truly  Hayo-went-ha's  own. 

Though  hers  the  woman's  destiny  — 
Though  pain  the  mother's  love  unsealed, 

No  tearful  sorrow-ljurdened  cry 
The  mother's  anguished  pain  revealed  ; 

For  she  the  lofty  faith  possessed, 
That,  coward  weakness  held  in  scorn. 

Endurance  in  the  mother-breast 
Wrought  courage  in  the  newly-boru." 


THE  AFTEIi-DAYS. 

How  wondrous  strange  a  beauty  liatli 
The  glimmering  life,  so  newly  lit ; 

How  sweet  along  the  home-led  path 
The  pattering  of  the  tiny  feet. 

Can   rarer  joy  for  mortal  be, 
A  purer  bliss  may  mortal  know, 

Than  on  love's  bounteous  breast  to  see 
A  dearer  life  in  beauty  grow  ? 

The  bridal  days  eome  back  again, 
Love  brightens  to  each  fond  caress  ; 

Aye  !  even  the  mother's  d(>eper  pain 
Do  soft  endearments  turn  to  l)liss ; 

What  good  nuiy  heart  of  Woman  own. 
What  joy  her  simple  joy  above. 

Far  dwelling  in  the  forest  lone  ? —  ' 
What  is  there  more  than  home  and  love  ?  ■*' 


123 


When  from  the  land  had  fled  amain 
The  winter  glooms,  in  cheerful  toil 

She  took  great  0-nust's  luscious  grain 
And  hid  it  in  the  fruitful  soil. 

She  anxious  watched  the  liny  spears, 
Made  mellow  round  each  springing  blade, 

Or  joyous  plucked  the  ripened  ears. 

As  meet  for  Indian  wife  or  maid. 

17 


124 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 


Or,  with  the  liousewife's  frugal  care, 
Far  through  the  forest's  wiiuly  ways 

She  roanietl,  tlie  fallen  nuts  to  bear 
And  garner  for  the  wintry  days  ; 

Or  in  the  woods  the  sticks  would  break 
And  bear  them  to  her  lowly  door, 

To  cook  the  Mosti-meat,  and  nuike 
The  cheerful  ITonie-fire  brighten  more. 


While  Hayo-went-ha  wore  the  day 
In  following  with  his  shaft  and  bow 

The  lofty-antlered  Me-sha-way, 
Or  fiercely-howling  0-kwa-ho ; 

The  snowy  Wau-bos,  tender-eyed, 
The  Jit-sho  with  the  wary  tread, 

The  Ne-jig  with  the  sleeky  hide, 
The  shagged  \  ek-wai,  prowling  dread. 


She  watched  the  midnight-brooding  star 
Chased  by  the  dawn,  and  unafraid 

Save  but  for  him,  whose  feet  afar 
Still  in  the  hunter-chase  delayed  ; 

Or  in  his  Chee-maun  fleet  and  free, 
That  willing  went  and  willing  came. 

Borne  lightly  o'er  the  foaming  sea 
Where,  waiting,  lit  the  Council-flame. 


THE  AFTKIi-DAVS. 


125 


When  from  tlie  Council  Fire  returned, 
He  rested  on  his  couch  and  mat, 

The  cheerful  hhize  more  brightly  burned  ; 
When  by  its  kindling  flame  he  sat, 

Or  shone  the  robe  so  newly  wrought 
On  Hayo-wont-ha^s  manly  breast, 

Like  that  the  bridal  morning  brought 
The  joj'^  the  wifely  heart  confessed. 

And  more  the  mother's  breast  would  own 
The  mother's  joy,  nor  less  deliglit 

The  little  maid,  when  gaily  shone 
Her  fawn-skin  kirtle,  snowy-white  ; 

And  day  b}'  day,  in  rarer  grace 
The  lithesome  form  did  heighten  more  ; 

Nor  less  the  soul  that  lit  the  face 
Grew,  —  curious  of  all  forest-lore. 


To  charm  the  twilight,  waiting  lone, 
She  from  the  wigwam's  fables  old 

Told  of  the  deeds  in  days  unknown, 
Or  childhood's  fairy  stories  told  : 

Of  Mana-bo-zho  —  he  that  set 
His  legs  to  roast  the  Kee-wau-nee  ; 

Whence  came  the  willows  red,  that  yet 
Are  gory-red  —  as  you  can  see. 


W  ^' 


3,  a 


:f 


I 


! 


126  Tllh'  LEAGUE   OF   THE   Ih'OiJi'OlS. 

Of  Shin-ge-bis  so  brave  and  bold, 
Or  duck  or  man,  as  lie  niiglit  please ; 
■  Him  that,  with  all  his  storm  ami  cold, 
Kabi-bon-ok-ka  could  not  freeze. 

All  stories  of  the  vanished  years. 
The  wondrous  fireside  F(dk-songs  old 

Told  to  the  maiden's  willing  ears  ; 
As  but  by  Indian  mothers  told. 

The  while  the  reedy  mats  she  made 
Or  lit  the  embers,  falling  dim, 

Or  wove  the  precious  Avami)um-braid 
And  charmed  the  hour  Avith  thoughts  of  him  ; 

Or,  Hayo-went-ha  more  to  Ijless, 
The  little  maiden  by  her  side. 

With  patient  hand  of  weariness 
She  dressed  Skan-o-do's  hairy  hide. 

And  growing,  more  the  maiden  grew 
The  mother's  joy,  the  father's  pride  ; 

She  all  the  wigwam  fables  knew. 
Nor  less  her  hand  to  labor  plied  ; 

But  when  her  little  t.ask  was  done, 
So  learned  in  all  the  stories  old. 

Her  pretty  tongue  would  ;>rattle  on — 
Re-tell  the  tales  the  mother  told. 


THE  AFTER-DAYS. 


127 


You  would  a  willing  oar  have  lent ; 
Like  this  her  simple  legeudry  :  — 


"As  through  the  woods  the  Bo-zhu  weut 
Sore  pressed  with  hunger,  did  he  see 

High  on  a  bank  beyond  his  reach 
The  snowy  Wau-bos,  tender-eyed  ; 

And  in  his  very  sweetest  speech 
'Come  here,  my  pretty  one,'  he  cried. 

"The  gentle  beast,  replying,  spake  : 
'I  thank  you,  but  it  cannot  be  ; 

My  mother  said,  I  must  not  make, 
Most  noble  sir,  with  strangers  free.' 

'  0  loveliest ! '  he  answered  fair. 
Obedient  child,  you  need  not  fear  ; 

How  worthy  of  such  jjarent's  care  ! 
I  am  a  relative,  my  dear, 


II I 


Of  yours,  and  only  wish  to  send 
A  word  to  those  we  love  ;  —  0  stay  !' 

He  said,  'I  am  your  dearest  friend. 
Indeed  ! — come  down  to  me,  I  pray.' 

She,  at  his  flattering  address, 
Forgot  her  mother's  good  advice  ; 

And  drawing  near,  that  Hare,  alas  ! 
Was  torn  and  eaten  in  a  trice." 


il   H  ' 


128  Till-:  i.KAcri-:  of  run  iRo^rors. 

She  told  of  love  the  tender  tales  ; 
Of  him  that  journeyed  far  and  high, 

Son  of  the  Evening  Star  tliat  trails 
A  glory  down  the  western  sky  : — • 


ii 


"Osseo  wrinkled  Avas  and  (dd  — 
All  for  an  Kvil  Manito  ; 

But  he  was  good  and  wise  and  hold 
His  was  a  tender  heart  and  true. 


"And  Oweenee,  the  lovely  maid, 
She  all  her  lovers  turned  away, 

Though  decked  v        heads  and  wanipuni-hraid 
And  young  and  br  nd  painted  gay. 

"They  laughed  when  she  Osseo  wed  — 
Laughed  at  his  feel)le  step  and  slow  ; 

But  '1  am  happy,'  still  she  said, 
And  who  is  foolish  you  shall  know.' 


"  Osseo  wrinkled  was  and  old  ; — 
He  hid  him  in  a  hollow  tree  ; 

When  forth  he  came  a  youth,  Ixdiold  !  — 
No  other  youth  so  fair  aa  be. 


THE  AFTKIi-I>AYS. 


129 


"Oh,  none  indeed  did  ever  know 
Sucli  stniij^lit  and  tidl  und  liiindsoine  nnin, 

With  ull  the  tleetness  of  tlie  Itoe  — 
Witli  all  his  strengtli  eonic  ))ack  a<^ain  ! 


"A his  I  the  nia<rie  vvi 


tch 


er, 


That  unto  liim  sucli  heauty  lent, 

Ma(U;  her,  his  dearest  Oweenee, 

Decrepid,  wrinkled,  old  and  hent. 


"Yet  spake  Osseo  words  of  cheer; 
He  called  her  still  each  tender  name, 

He  called  her  Nee-nee-nioosh-a  dear 
He  called  her  sweetheart  all  the  same. 


"Th(.   t;h  they,  the  Evil  i'owers,  did  mar 
Her  every  feature,  he  could  see 

Within  and  shining  like  a  star, 
All  lovely  still,  his  Oweenee. 


"And  with  a  cry  he  hroke  tin;  spell  : 
Lo  !  all  the  wrinkled  ugliness 

Fell  from  her  —  like  a  garment  fell,- 
Left  only  beauty's  charm  and  grace. 


130  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

"But  ill!  tlie  lovers,  sisters,  they 
That  flouted,  jeered  uiid  spake  her  ill, 

Werv»  changed  to  birds  and  flew  away. 
And  in  the  woods  are  singing  still. 


"While  like  the  morn  that  night  illumes, 
Was  Oweenee,  so  lovely  grown  ; 

Or  like  the  Swan  with  glistening  i)lunies. 
So  new  her  snowy  kirtle  s:.one. 


"Her  howls  no  longer  were  of  wood, 
Her  kettles  all  like  silver  showed  ; 

The  barky  lodge  that  glimmering  stood. 
Like  flani.ng  wings,  it  swayed  and  glowed. 


"Then  heard  they  far-ofl"  voices  call, 
That  through  the  twilight  tender  fell : 

'The  nuigic  spells  are  broken  all, — 
Come,  in  the  Stars  immortal  dwell.' 


"And  lo  !  the  wigwam  rising  free, 
Went  speeding  through  the  ether  far ; 

Till  with  Osseo,  Oweenee, 
It  rested  o)i  the  Eveuina  Star. 


Ti 


77//';  aitkh-days. 


131 


"No  more  to  wriiikk'd  grow  iiiid  die, 
No  more  in  weary  toil  to  pine  ; 

To  dance  and  sinj;  —  not  weep  and  ery 
To  like  the  starlight  glow  and  sliiue." 


-o 


All  home-delighting  tales  slu;  told  :  — 
Of  him,  th(^  wrestler  never  tlirown, 

The  great(!st  trickster,  jester  l)old. 
The  greatest  misidiiel'-maker  known  ; 

Him,  Pan-[)nk-kee-wis,  wizard  sprite, 
That  in  a  hundred  forms  was  slain, 

Yet  ever  with  new  strength  and  might 
In  bird  and  beast  did  live  again. 


Of  him,  far  seeking  fairer  boon 
Than  is  the  noblest  gift  of  men, — 

Iosco,  to  the  sun  and  moon 
That  journeyed,  and  returned  again  ; 

Of  all  the  wonders  that  he  saw, 
The  strange  adventures  that  l)efel. 

Of  every  mighty  Manito 
That  lielped  or  hindered,  she  could  tell, 

18 


■-^*^  •»»;■« 


132  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IHOQUOIS. 

Of  the  Magician's  Daughter ;  slie, 
The  Red  Swan,  whose  giiy  phiraage  lent 

A  glory  to  the  land  and  sea ; 
Who,  when  his  magic  arrows  spent. 

Still  on  and  on  the  hunter  drew 
And  all  his  manly  courage  tried  ; 

Until,  so  brave  was  he  and  true, 
He  won  the  maiden  for  his  bride. 


And  of  the  shining  Stone  Canoe, 
Wherein  the  hapless  lover  passed 

Into  the  Land  of  Souls,  and  saw 
The  maiden  he  had  mourned,  —  the  rest 

That  waits  on  all  the  good  and  brave, 
Land  where  no  parting  is  or  pain  ; 

Returning  thence  across  the  wave 
He  trod  this  darkened  Earth  again. 


Of  Kwa-sind,  Mana-bo-zho's  friend, 
Sc  strong  that  mighty  rocks  he  threw  ; 

Who  freed  the  rivers,  cleared  the  land, 
And  A-meek,  King  of  Beavers,  slew. 

Who  for  his  pride  of  strength  and  might. 
For  all  his  pride  and  boasting  vain. 

Was  slain,  alas  !  in  hate  and  spite — 
By  little  mean  Puck-Wudj-ies  slain. 


THE  AFTER-DAYS. 

Of  him  that,  fasting  all  too  long, 
Changed  to  0-pee-chee, — gaily  sings 

Till  all  the  grove  is  loud  with  song,  — 
So  happy  in  the  gift  of  wings. 

Of  the  Foam  Woman,  Pee-ta-Kway, 
The  Moccasins  that  enchanted  draw  ; 

Of  her  the  Fairies  stole  away, 
The  lovely  maiden  Lee-li-nau.* 

And  more,  as  grows  the  kindling  dawn, 
In  beauty  grew  the  little  maid  ; 

That  free  and  lithesome  as  the  fawn 
Went  dancing  through  the  windy  glade  ; 

And  oft  wlien  summer  breezes  fanned 
Her  glowing  cheek,  afar  was  heard 

Her  little  song,  that  o'er  the  land 
She  caroled  like  a  singing  bird. 

And  {IS  in  stature,  more  she  grew 
In  forest-lore,  till  passing  well 

She  all  the  marvelous  stories  knew, 
More  than  lago's  self  could  tell. 

Nor  less  a  maiden  heart  and  kind 
Her  bosom  bore,  while  in  her  face 

Shone  all  the  father's  wiser  mind 
Lit  with  the  mother's  tender  grace. 

*  lliawatha  Legends,  by  H.  K.  Schoolchaft. 


i 


133 


.'. 


■I  1 


134 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


%m 


Serene  the  days  had  onward  flown, 
The  years  that  only  came  to  bless, 

And  Hayo-went-ha  great  had  grown 
In  majesty  and  nobleness  ; 

More  wide  liad  spread  his  prophet-fame 
The  Dusky  Tribes  to  lead  and  teach  ; 

And  many  a  warrior  chieftain  came 
To  hearken  to  his  wiser  speech. 


His  name  on  every  wind  had  flown 
Wherever  dusky  warriors  roam  ; 

Yet  dearer  to  his  heart  had  grown 
The  long-familiar  paths  of  home  ; 

Its  soothing  tones  that  gently  woke, 
Still  more  had  power  to  charm  and  bless  ; 

And  in  his  voice,  the  while  he  spoke, 
There  dwelt  a  deeper  tenderness. 

And  teaching,  more  himself  had  taught 
Of  all  tli^s  being's  end  and  aim  ; 

That  mighty  deeds,  with  glory  fraught. 
If  fame,  is  not  the  noble -it  fame  ; 

Not  triumph  in  the  bloody  strife 
Nor  yet  to  give  to  pleasure  loose. 

But  that  the  measure  meet  of  life 
Is  Virtue,  Wisdom,  Love  and  Use. 


THE    COUNCIL 


I 


-^'■inp! 


i 


Blest  Oway-neo  high  above, 
Thou  oulif  mif/hti/,  all  in  all, 

0  Thou  that  art  Immortal  Loir, 
Must  bear  us  or  we  faint  and  fall! 

0!  give  us  more  of  trust  to  feel 
In  Thee;  Thee  more  to  understand ; 

To  see  in  all,  or  iroe  or  ural, 
•  Thi/  presence  and  thy  loring  hand. 


XII 


THE    COUNCIL. 


As  if  too  much  might  bliss  endear 
This  all  too-quickly  passing  life, 

Erelong  to  Hayo-went-ha's  ear 
Came  rumors  of  War's  ruthless  strife ; 

The  fell  Algonquin  warriors  fierce 
With  war-ax  red  and  angry  bow 

Had  come  ;  their  savage  yells  did  ])ierce 
The  very  home  of  Manito. 


And  lo  !  afar  the  lurid  streaks 
From  flaming  wio'wams  lighted  past ; 

While  Kax-aa's  cries  and  Yong-we's  shrieks 
Dread  mingled  with  the  awful  blast. 

A  sorrow  wail  that,  east  or  west. 
Or  north  or  south,  still  onward  swept. 

And  kindled  in  each  dusky  breast 
The  fiery  soul  that  long  had  slept. 


I  (' 


m 


138 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IhOQVOIS. 


And  forth  at  Hayo-went-lia's  call 
The  widely-scattered  chieftains  caine, 

Where  fearful  shone  night's  gloomy  pall, 
Lit  with  the  mighty  Council-flame — " 

Far  kindled  on  Yo-non-to,  high 
Above  the  Onondaga  flood  ; 

Bright  flaring  on  the  midnight  sky, 
Illuming  hill  and  wave  and  wood. 


1 

^ 

Three  days  that  beacon-light  had  shone 
On  plumes  a  thousand  warriors  wore ; 

Still  Hayo-went-ha  waited  lone 
Beside  Ti-o-to's  farther  shore, 

Nor  to  the  Council  came ;  and  fleet 
Went  hunters,  swiftest  in  the  chase, 

Went  messengers  with  flying  feet, 
To  bring  him  to  the  Council-place. 

And  him  they  found  ;  —  nor  bold  and  proud 
He  stood,  as  one  of  noble  state  ; 

But  sat  he  mute,  in  sorrow  bowed — 
The  presage  of  a  darker  fjite. 

His  breast  an  evil  omen  bore. 
Foretelling  he  no  more  should  come 

Back  from  the  Council-place,  nor  more 
Be  gladdened  by  the  smiles  of  home. 


THE  COUNCIL. 


139 


III  fitting  words,  nor  overbold, 
To  him  they  spako  ;  how,  burning  dim, 

Tlie  Council  still  delayed  ;  they  told 
What  mighty  chieftains  waited  him  ; 

What  braves  the  fiercer  foe  had  slain ; 
How  women  wept  ami  children  mourned ; 

Till  pitying  so  his  People's  pain, 
Or  he  his  lighter  sorrow  scorned. 

Or  bowing  to  the  will  of  Fate, — 
Uprose  ;  and  not  as  one  bereft, 

But  with  a  firmer  step  elate  ; 
And  on  that  manly  face  was  left 

Of  anguished  thought,  nor  trace  nor  stain  ; 
But  with  the  olden  fire  imbued  — 

The  scorn  of  fear,  the  scorn  of  pain 
Of  Ongue  Honwe's  lofty  mood. 


Bright  in  the  morning's  dawning  light 
Shone  Hayo-went-ha  s  Prophet-face, 

As  it  some  passion's  stormy  might 
Had  lit  and  left  a  fiery  trace  ; 

His  brow  of  mighty  purpose  showed, 
His  eye  of  valor's  kindling  ken  ; 

His  very  step,  as  forth  he  strode. 
Was  haughty,  as  of  kingly  men. 

19 


If 


140 


27//?  LEAGUE  OF  THE  JIfOQUOIS. 


And  forth  again  the  wondrous  harge 
From  out  its  secret  phiee  he  hrouglit ; 

Bore  softly  to  the  i)e])l)ly  niurge 
The  ])ark  hy  mystic  fingers  wrought — 

The  Chee-maun  blest  of  Munito, 
That  paddle-bearing  hand  had  none, 

Yet  fleetly  on,  and  onwar<l  drew 
When  Hayo-went-ha  willed  it  on  ; 

That  bore  him  in  the  days  before, 
In  radiant  summers  long  agone. 

To  fair  Ti-o-to's  pel)l)ly  shore, 
When,  lit  with  love's  aAvakening  dawn, 

It  glowed  as  Oway-neo  there 
Had  built  his  wigwam  on  the  strand. 

Oh,  love  can  make  the  common  rare — 
Make  every  hmd  a  summer-land  ! 


It  erst  had  many  a  storm  withstood ; 
Him  with  his  mighty  bow  it  bore 

To  slay  the  monsters  of  the  flood. 
Great  Ke-ka-dah-nong  on  the  shore  ; 

And  far  on  many  a  stranger  sea, — 
Wherever  most  might  knowledge  loose 

Her  sacred  seal,  or  glory  be  ; 
But  now  should  prove  its  nobler  use. 


rilE  COUNCIL.  141 

« 

As  if  with  warrior-pride  elate, 
Or  felt  again  love's  fond  desire, 

It  lightly  skipped,  as  loth  to  wait 
To  bear  him  to  the  Council  Fire ; 

On  Onondaga's  breast  to  dance — 
Far  on  the  sea  to  dance  and  leap, 

Before  the  westering  sun  should  glance 
His  arrows  from  the  rocky  steep. 

In  royal  mantle  woven  fair, 
Nyah-tah-wanta's  hand  had  made, 

Where  shone  the  Tortoise,  Wolf,  and  Hear, 
Shone  fierce  in  many  a  to-tcm  braid  ; 

In  moccasins  with  the  nuirvelous  hem, 
In  snowy  leggins,  beaded  grand, 

Inwrought  with  many  a  curious  gem, — 
He  trod  the  Onondaga  strand. 


!* 


And  her  he  called — the  little  maid  — 
From  out  the  leafy  summer  wood, 

Glad  singing  through  the  windy  glade 
The  simple  songs  of  maidenhood  ; 

And  when  anear  she  lightly  run, 
Said  to  the  maiden  tenderly, 

"Go,  put  your  beaded  kirtle  on. 
Your  mantle  new,  and  go  with  me." 


rr 


142 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS, 


And  as  the  maid  with  quicker  tread 
And  gayer  song  went  liglitly  ])y, 

The  mother,  though  she  nothing  said,- 
The  mother,  though  she  knew  not  why, 

Was  loth  to  let  the  daiusel  go  ; 
Perchance  within  a  dee})er  breast, 

Of  danger  that  she  did  not  know, 
She  felt  the  trouble  and  unrest. 


Swift  sped  Jifar  the  mystic  bark, 
Bright  on  the  tide  the  nu>rning  l)rok(.  ; 

But  Hayo-went-ha,  brooding  dark. 
Looked  on  the  tide,  and  nothing  spoke ; 

As  if  he  spied  in  outward  sight. 
Or  saw  with  clearer  inner  eye, 

Or  inly  felt  the  spell  and  might 
Of  awful  sorrow,  boding  nigh. 


Though  with  thsit  omened  dread  imbued. 
Some  tender  thought  liis  bosom  bore 

Unto  the  mother  where  she  stood, — 
Sad  lingered  on  the  pebbly  shore. 

Nyah-tah-wanta  watching  vain 
That  magic  Q>\\v  ^jding  fast. 

Still  loorw.H] 

As  if  t  ...  ver 


lid  felt  the  pain 
10  last. 


THE  COUNCIL, 

When  lost  unto  her  anxious  sight, 
Sh(!  homeward  turned  with  weary  tread 

To  mourn  the  wigwam's  lost  delight ; 
While  unto  him,  as  on  ho  sped, 

Ti-o-to's  hanks,  receding,  grew 
More  dim  and  faint ;  —  still  on,  away 

To  where  the  hurrying  currents  drew 
Of  swiftly-running  Seneca. 

And  many  an  ill-foreh' ding  bird 
Along  the  reedy  borders  woke  ; 

A  grief-betokening  tono  he  heard 
In  great  Da-hin-da's  hoarser  croak  ; 

The  war  Ke-neu,  with  screech  and  sqiuill, 
Bore  to  his  ear  a  sorrow-cry  ; 

In  noisy  Wa-wa's  honking  call 
He  heard  an  evil  prophecy. 

The  pretty  maid,  with  heart  elate. 
Her  piiddle  in  the  limpid  pea. 

Sat, —  only  so  to  keep  it  straight, 
The  Chee-maun  lightly  speeding  free  ; 

Or  more  to  charm  her  maiden  care 
Or  so  the  lingering  hour  to  chide, 

She  pulled  the  lilies  blooming  fair, 
Or  watched  the  silver  ripples  glide, 


143 


fen 


§■ 

1 

144 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Her  little  songs  she  softly  sang 
Or  watched  the  tiny  minnows  throng, 

Or  listened  to  the  lonely  Muhng, 
Nor  heard  in  his  a  troubled  song  ; 

She  saw  th(»  Sa-vva  darting  free, 
Skan-o-do  browsing  in  the  wood  ; 

Nor  thought  of  coining  ill  had  she, 
The  little  maiden,  fair  and  good. 

And  still  away  it  lightly  run. 
Like  wing  of  bird  —  that  light  canoe; 

Still  Ilayo-went-hsi  wilb'd  it  on, 
And  still  the  williiig  current  drew  ; 

Till  swiftly  up  the  So-ha-hi 
That  airy  bark  he  lightly  pressed  ; 

Now  Onondaga  glimmers  nigh — 
Lo  !  now  he  skims  its  flashing  brea.st. 

High  on  Yo-non-to  far  away 
A  thousand  dusky  warriors  wait ; 

The  morn  is  passed,  and  still  they  say, — 
'*He  comes  not  —  Hayo-went-ha  great." 

IJut  lo  !  along  the  reedy  marge 
A  lonely  Chee-maun  spetnling  free  ; 

And — "Knee-ha!  Knee-ha!"  greets  the  b.arge: 
"My  father  !  — father  !— it  is  he  ! !" 


THE  COUNCIL. 


145 


>f  1 


Near  and  more  near  ;  —  he  gains  the  shore  ; 
From  out  the  bark  witli  h)ving  hand 

The  maiden  dear  he  liglitly  hore  ; 
While  voices,  waking  idl  the  hmd, 

The  Chieftain  greet,  —  now  more  their  hope, 
A  thousand  warriors  on  him  Avait 

To  bear  him  up  the  grass}'^  slope, 
Where,  empty,  waits  the  lodge  of  state. 


But  lo  !  what  sound  from  far  is  heard  ? 
What  fierce-descending  form  is  there 

With  pinions  of  a  mighty  bird, 
That  rived  and  blackened  all  the  air  ? 

How  thrilled  the  bravest  hearts  with  fear  ! 
With  wings  that  brought  the  gloom  of  night, 

Tliat  terror-bearing  creature  near 
Swooped  frightful  on  their  startled  sight. 

Still  down  —  and  down  ;  still  circling  nigh, 
While  deepened  more  the  shrouding  gloom  ; 

Still  down  —  and  down  ;  —  till  all  tlic  sky 
Shone  awful  with  impending  doom  : 

How  fled  the  frightened  multitude  — 
Fled  wild  and  shrieking  everywhere  ! 

While  calm  gn^it  Hay o-went-ha  stood  — 
He  and  the  little  maiden  fair. 


jb. ■■ 


Mi 


M 


146  r//A'  LEAGUE  OF  THE  luoguois. 

And  why  should  Hayo-went-ha  flee  ? 
Or  why  should  fear  his  heart  appall  ? 

Was  not  great  Oway-neo,  He 
The  Mighty  Ruler  over  all, 

Around  him  in  the  fearful  ways, 
As  in  the  path  that  peaceful  smiles  ? 

To  yield  him  more  these  frailer  days. 
Or  bear  him  to  the  Happy  Isles. 


Swift  sped  the  shafts  from  thousand  strings — 
Swift  sped,  and  true, —  but  all  in  vain  ; 

For  though  the  monster's  frightful  wings 
Lay  shivered  on  the  crimson  plain, — 

A  cry,  that  startled  all  the  vale. 
That  shook  the  listening  sea  with  dread. 

Went  up  ;  —  a  wail  —  an  awful  wail 
For  her,  the  Chieftain's  darling — dead. 


And  wonder  more  their  sorrow  stirred  : 
For  lo  !  where  stood  the  little  maid. 

Killed  —  dreadful !  —  by  that  frightful  bird. 
Itself  crushed  dead  al.)ng  the  glade. 

Nor  lifeless  form  i.or  human  trace 
Was  there,  nor  parted  venture  found  ; 

Though  strewn  with  plumes  was  all  the  place, 
And  blood-besprinkled  all  the  ground. 


THE  COUNCIL. 


147 


ij 


PS' 


And  over  Hayo-went-ha's  soul 
The  mighty  tides  of  anguish  swept ; 

He  bowed  him  to  their  fierce  control, 
And  sorely  sorrow-stricken  wept ; 

And  grief  from  bravest  hearts  outpoured- 
Rang  piercing  through  the  frightened  air ; 

Till  waking  Echo,  weeping,  heard 
The  wail  and  lamentation  there. 

Three  days  he  wept  beside  the  sea, — 
He  wept  till  he  could  weep  no  more  ; 

Three  days  of  tearful  agony 
Prostrate  he  lay  along  the  shore  ; 

Nor  tasted  food  day  after  day, 
Bemoaning  wild  her  sadder  fate ; 

He  nothing  spake  —  as  dead  he  lay, 
Heart-broken  and  disconsolate. 


^ce, 


And  Nature,  grieving,  mourned  witli  him  : 
As  brooding  her  untimely  doom, 

The  saddened  watch-fire  flickered  diiu. 
The  midnight  wore  a  deeper  gloom  ; 

The  Moon  her  cloudy  mantle  drew 
In  sorrow  for  the  stricken  Chief; 

The  darkened  woods,  the  long  night  through. 
Stood  silent  in  the  hush  of  grief. 

20 


148 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQUOIS. 


V'' 


Along  the  sea  more  lonesome  woke 
The  moaning  of  the  lonely  Mahng  ; 

The  great  Da-hin-da's  hoarser  croak 
From  out  the  hralce  more  doleful  rang ; 

The  Ko-ko-ko-ho's  mournful  hoot 
Blent  with  the  Wa-won-ais-se's  moan  ; 

The  troubled  waves,  with  swash  and  bruit, 
Lapsed  with  a  wailing  undertone. 

The  while  the  Council  still  delayed, — 
Delayed  his  wiser  speech  to  hear, 

When  he  his  deeper  grief  had  stayed. 
At  length  to  him  with  words  of  cheer 

Came  the  kind-hearted  Hosee  Noke ; 
His  head  upraising  from  the  ground. 

He  unto  Hayo-went-ha  spoke, 
Who  thence  a  little  comfort  found. 

Where  he  had  lain  upon  the  sands 
He  sat ; — his  trembling  knees  he  pressed  ; 

His  gray  locks,  in  tear-tangled  strands, 
Fell  down  upon  that  aching  breast. 

But  broken  was  that  spell ;  allayed 
His  grief;  him  meat  they  brought  and  bread ; 

He,  sitting  mute,  his  hunger  stayed. 
And  eating,  more  was  comforted. 


THE   COUNCIL. 


149 


Erelong  amid  that  faithful  band 
He  stood  as  one  for  honor  meet, 

Majestic,  fitted  to  command  ; 
Once  more  with  quickened  pulses  beat 

His  heart  within  a  tranquil  breast ; 
More  brightly  glowed  his  prophet-face, 

As  he  the  joy  and  peace  possessed 
Of  Oway-neo's  Shining  Place. 

0  Prophet  Soul  !  to  thee  allowed, 
As  ever  to  the  good  and  wise, 

To  see  beyond  the  storm  and  cloud 
The  glimmer  of  the  morning-rise  ; 

And  loss  like  thine,  that  deeply  grieves 
The  heart  that  most  may  lo've  confess, 

Upon  the  chastened  spirit  leaves 
The  seal  of  every  nobleness. 


And  if  his  thought  still  wandered  prone 
To  her,  the  darling  little  maid. 

Or  her,  the  mother  far  and  lone. 
No  truant  tear  his  grief  betrayed. 

The  warrior  brave  alone  was  seen ; 
His  very  step — so  free  and  bold — 

Or  where  he  sat,  his  lofty  mien. 
Alone  of  valorous  purpose  told. 


111^ 


150 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IIWQUOIS. 


Once  more  in  Wolf-skin  robe  iirrji3'^e(l, 
In  snowy  plume  and  eagle  crest, 

With  mighty  heart, — its  grief  allayed — 
With  all  the  greatness  of  the  past 

Again  returned,  calm  as  before 
Stood  Ongue  Honwe's  nol>lest  Chief, — 

The  Council  called ;  remembering  more 
His  stricken  People's  greater  grief. 

His  royal  mantle,  wove  and  wrought 
With  to-tems  of  his  race  and  name. 

That  from  his  face  a  glory  caught, 
Shone  like  the  Council-kindled  flame  ; 

Where  fierce  the  Tortoise,  Wolf,  and  Bear 
Did  frown  and  glower,  as  in  a  cage 

The  living  ])easts  were  prisoned  there, 
And  scarce  restrained  their  fiery  rage. 

Again  he  strode  with  kingly  tread, 
Or,  mid  the  braves  that  round  him  wait. 

Nor  token  showed  of  grief  or  dread, 
Sat  —  greatest  of  the  chieftains  great. 

With  grave  intent  he  listened  long  ; 
Heard  many  a  fiery  speaker  tell 

Of  all  his  People's  woe  and  wrong. 
Till  twilight's  deepening  shadows  fell. 


1  • 


THE  COUNCIL. 


151 


Then  rising,  brief  he  spoke  ;  he  said  : 
"  Whom  the  Great  Spirit  hath  bereft, 

Again  —  nor  all  unconiforted  — 
Before  you  stands.   Of  bh'ssings  hi  ft 

Tlian  of  the  h)st,  he  that  is  wise 
Takes  more  account ;  the  ills  of  Fate 

Blest  are  to  him  whose  heart  relies 
On  love  of  Oway-neo  great." 


And — '^What  ye  spake,  braves,  I  have  lieard. 
Haste  is  not  meet ;  whoso  is  wise 

Weighs  all,  and  finds  the  fitting  word  ;  — 
Nor  yet  too  late.     To  just  appraise 

What  in  our  need  may  profit,  seek 
Ye  counsel  of  to-morrow's  sun  ; 

Again  will  Hayo-went-ha  speak. 
He  that  has  said  it, — he  is  done." 

The  slow-departing  day  has  fled, 
The  shadows  deepen  on  the  land 

Where,  all  un vexed  of  coward  dread, 
Hope-girded  waits  that  noble  band 

Of  warrior  braves ;  their  faces  lit 
Fierce,  like  the  flames  that  pale  and  glow, 

As  watching  late,  they  wary  sit 
Around  the  camj)-fire,  blazing  low. 


152 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOQVOIS. 


And  silence  with  the  hroodinj?  niglit 
Fiills  like  cT,  mantle  over  all, 

Save  where  along  the  rocky  height 
Is  heard  the  Ko-ko-ko-ho's  call ; 

The  soaring  Wa-wa's  honking  clang, 
Or  mournful  on  the  farther  sea 

The  crying  of  the  lonely  INIahng, 
Or  waves'  low-lapsing  minstrelsy. 


1 


W:' 


SPEECH 


—  OF- 


HAYO-WENT-HA, 


!l  i 


I 


m 

mi 
mi 


fwi?r 


Made  potent  with  the  might  of  Speech 
Thoiujht  holds  the  keys  of  Destiny; 

And  borne  on  fiery  lips  may  reach 
And  mold  the  Ages  yet  to  he. 

Whoso  can  speak  thefUing  word 
When  darkly  threatening  perils  wait, 

His  tongue  is  mightier  than  the  sword 
To  shape  a  Nation's  future  fate. 


pi 


I 


XIII 

SPEECH    OF    HAYO-WENT-HA. 

Ho  !  MY  People  !  —  all  ye  bands ! 
Ongue  Honwe's  greatness  prove. 

He  that  now  before  you  stands 
Loves  you  with  a  father's  love  ; 

Love  that  wrongs  still  more  endear, 
Wrongs  this  grieving  heart  has  heard. 

All  ye  wandering  tribes  give  ear ! 
Hearken  Hayo-went-ha's  word. 


Fierce  is  your  Algonquin  foe  ; 
Far  the  wail  of  sorrow  wakes ; 

Noblest  braves  are  bowed  in  woe, 
Every  heart  with  anguish  aches ; 

Dark  the  wigwams,  smouldering,  reek, 
Lurid  glares  the  ghastly  light ; 

Kax-aa's  cry  and  Yong-we'L,  shriek 

Make  more  hideous  the  night. 
21 


156 


THE  LEAGL'K  OF  THE  lUOQVOlS. 


Brothers  !  that  before  me  stand, 
Tlioiigh  of  many  :i  lodj^e  and  name, 

Thoiigli  of  many  a  tril)e  and  band, 
One  in  liope  and  one  in  aim, 

And  may  one  in  greatness  grow, — 
Let  not  fear  yonr  hearts  appall ; 

But  remembering  this  our  foe 
Is  the  common  foe  of  all, — 

Hearken  !  Ye  that  far  have  come, 
Ye  that  nearer  dwell ! —  The  same 

Unto  all  alike  is  home  ; 
Dear  the  warrior's  name  and  fame  ; 

And, —  as  will  your  valor  prove, 
On  the  war-path  unafraid, — 

Dear  is  Yong-we's  heart  of  love. 
Dear  the  wigwam's  mat  and  shade. 


And  in  warning  sign  to-day. 
That  ye  see  not,  do  I  see 

In  the  coming  battle-fray 
Must  ye  more  than  brothers  be. 

By  the  friendly  hand  ye  reach 
Each  to  each,  ye  stand  or  fall ; 

Only  so  the  good  of  each 
Finding  in  the  good  of  all. 


SPEECH  OF  HAYO-WENT-HA. 


157 


Lo !  this  mantle  that  I  l)par, 
Mark  tho  hem  tliat  *j;litters  so; 

In  each  fold,  l)ri<;ht  woven  there, 
Sec  our  warrior  to-tenis  show  ! 

Part  the  thongs  that  interlace, 
All  this  beanty,  wondrous  wrought, 

Parted  from  its  use  and  place  — 
Many  a  i)iece — the  thing  were  naught. 

Now,  alas  !  mj'  people  all 
Like  the  separate  pieces  show  ; 

Severed  still,  they  can  but  fall, 
Strength  nor  use  nor  beauty  know. 

But  by  loving  bond  and  thong 
Wove,  as  is  this  wondrous  vest. 

Then  a  People  great  and  strong, 
And  by  Oway-neo  blest. 


Round  this  Council  Fire  to-day 
We  may  shape  the  future  fate 

Of  the  tribes,  that  severed  stray. 
To  a  Nation  wise  and  great. 

Singly  we  can  never  cope 
With  these  fierce  Algon([uin  bands  ; 

Union  is  our  only  hope  — 
Union  of  our  hearts  and  hands. 


158 


TIIK  LKAGUE   OF  THE  lliOQUOIS. 


Ours  a  common  cause  must  be  ! 
But  one  hope  all  liecatf^  inspire  ; 

But  one  name,  one  destiny, 
But  one  pipe,  one  Council  Fire, 

But  one  war-club  must  we  know, 
Wielded  by  one  common  hand ; 

One  war-cry,  one  warrior-bow. 
But  one  home,  one  common  land  ! 


'I 

■% 

Brothers  !  hearken  what  I  say  ! 
Hayo-went-ha's  words  are  good  ; 

Union  is  our  hoi)e  to-day  — 
All  our  hope  in  In-otherhood  ! 

If  you  wise  my  counsel  heed, 
Of  the  foe  that  now  we  fear 

Soon  shall  all  the  land  l)e  freed. 
Ho  !  each  separate  Tribe  give  ear  ! 

Mohawks^  — 

Ye,  whose  footstep  lightly  treads 
Wlune  the  Great  Tree  branches  wide 

Far  its  greening  shelter  spreads, 
Ye  wlio  in  its  shade  aJjide, 

Ye  whose  hearts  are  bold  and  free. 
Ye  whose  arms  are  mighty  all 

Shall  among  the  ]![ations  be 
First  to  wake  the  Council-call. 


SPEECH  OF  IIAYO-WENT-IIA. 

Oiiondagas, — 

Ye,  whose  habitations  nigh 
By  the  Great  Hills  peaceful  keep : 

Near  by  Yo-nond,  beetling  high, 
Shadowed  by  its  cragged  steep  ; 

For  in  that  in  you  I  see — 
In  you  all  —  the  gifted  speech, 

Yours  the  second  place  shall  be  ; 
Great  to  'ead  and  great  to  teach. 

Senecas, — 

Ye,  whose  dwelling-place  is  where 
Wakes  Ku-ha-go's  sough  aiul  nioau, 

Ye  whose  homes  are  Ijuilded  fair 
Tn  the  forest  dark  and  lone  ; 

For  in  that  you  greatl}'  show 
Cunning  iu  the  hunter  chase, 

For  your  mighty  hunter-})ow, 
Third  shall  be  your  Council-place. 

Onriilas, — 

Ye  who  in  the  Council  shine — 
On  the  war-path  mighty  grown  ; 

Ye  who  strong  and  great  recline 
By  the  Everlasting  Stone  ; 

That  you  counsel  always  wise. 
Neither  weak  nor  over-bold, 

Shall  you  great  in  Council  rise, 
Fourth  your  place  in  Council  liuld. 


159 


160 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IIWQUOIS. 


Cayufjas, — 

Ye  whose  liomes  are  biiikled  nigh 
Where  the  open  country  lies  ; 

Ye  whose  wigwams,  wide  and  high, 
Show  a  skillfnl  hand  and  wise  ; 

For  in  this,  that  in  your  fiehls 
IVIuch  of  corn  and  beans  I  see, 

That  your  patient  hibor  yields. 
Fifth  shall  in  the  Council  be." 


Brothers  !  that  before  nie  stand, 
Though  of  many  a  lodge  and  name, 

Thcnigh  of  many  a  tribe  and  bund, 
One  in  hope  and  one  in  fame  ! 

In  this  bond  united  be : 
None  shall  make  your  hearts  afraid  ; 

You  a  Nation  great  and  free. 
Never  foe  will  dure  invade. 

And  to  you  Avith  feeble  hands 
That  a  fishing  people  are  ; 

And  to  you  the  scattered  bands 
Widely  wandering  everywhere. 

Strength  shall  this  alliance  lend  ; 
So  the  weaker  may  not  fall. 

But  the  weakest  find  a  friend 
In  the  friendliness  of  all. 


SPEECH  OF  HAYO-WEyT-HA. 

May  He,  Oway-neo  great, 
Smile  upon  your  Council-tliinie, 

And  his  blessing  on  you  wait  — 
Heighten  more  your  noble  fame ; 

May  you  civrcll,  your  sorrows  ptus^ 
Happy  ill  the  liunter-chase  ; 

And  your  foct-steps  tread  at  last 
Inigorio's  Shining  Place. 

But  dissevered,  evermore 
On  you  shall  the  tiery  frown 

Of  the  angry  Spirit  pour ; 
War  and  famine  darken  down 

Over  all  your  goodly  land. 
Now  the  land  of  noble  braves  ; 

And  your  wigwams  ruined  stand,- 
Ruined — by  dishonored  graves  ! 

Often,  in  war's  wild  array, 
Shall  your  dread  Algon(iuin  foe 

Come  —  as  he  has  come  to-day  — 
Filling  all  the  land  with  woe. 

Or,  again,  more  fierce  and  bold. 
Come  the  Adirondack  fell. 

You  —  as  from  your  homes  of  old- 
From  this  fairer  land  expel.'* 


161 


162 


THE  LKAOVE   OF   THE   IliOQiOlS. 


And  no  brave  tliat  coward  bleeds 
Shall  the  after-days  recall  ; 

All  your  mighty  fame  and  deeds 
In  the  war-storm  perished  all ! 

Till  on  every  land  and  shore 
Wliere  your  children  joyous  throng, 

Shall  your  names  be  heard  no  more 
In  the  dance  and  in  the  song. 


Brothers  !  hearken  what  I  say  !■ 
Hayo-went-ha's  words  are  good  ; 

Union  is  our  hope  to-day  — 
All  our  hope  in  Brotherhood  ! 

If  by  this  my  counsel  led, 
Choose  ye  by  to-morrow's  sun  ; 

Hayo-went-ha,  he  has  said  — 
Hayo-went-ha,  he  is  done. 


HAYO-WENT-HA'S 


MOURNING. 


22 


ir/io  tells  of  Life  the  story  through 
Must  of  its  gloom  and  shadow  shou-; 

Who  sings  of  Lore  in  numbers  true 
Must  wake  at  whiles  a  song  of  woe. 

No  heart  in  any  human  breast 
In  any  land,  in  any  age, 

The  noblest  born,  the  lowliest, 
But  bears  a  tear-dimmed  sorrow-page. 


XI Y 


HAYO-WENT-HA'S    MOURNING. 


To  THE  Midnight's  brooding  star 
Brightly  Oiiontliiga  shows ; 

On  Yo-non-to^s  summit  fur 
Faintly  dim  the  watch-fire  gk)ws  ; 

Lone  the  Ko-ko-ko-ho's  call 
Echoes  from  the  rocky  steep  ; 

Hoarse  the  Wu-wa's  honkings  i'all 
Sad  ahjug  the  lonely  deep. 


Lo  !  upon  the  shining  sands 
Hayo-weut-ha  lingers  late ; 

Lone  the  mighty  Chieftain  stands 
Brooding  dark  his  sorrow  great ; 

On  his  royal  mantle  fair 
Sparkles  many  a  costly  gem  ; 

0-jis-hon-da  brightly  there 
Twinkle  in  each  lieaded  hem. 


m 

? 

166 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  lliOQUOlS. 


m 


Like  a  dirge,  the  sorrow-iuoan 
Thiit  tlie  night-birds,  wtiking,  sing 

To  his  anguished  breast  ah^ne. 
Clear  the  dew-drops  pearly  cling. 

Glistening  on  each  shrub  and  tree  ; 
Tears  are  they  by  Naturo*  shed, — 

Tears  of  loving  sympathy 
For  the  dear,  untimely  dead. 

Through  the  moonlight  falling  faint 
Where  the  deeper  shadows  gloam. 

In  the  Wa-won-ais-se's  plaint 
Hears  he  still  the  voice  of  home ; 

Hears  he  a  lament  and  sigh 
In  the  zephyr,  winging  on  ; 

Like  his  darling's  dying  cry 
Seems  the  sighing  of  the  Swan. 


On  he  wends  in  deeper  care, 
Pensive  on  the  lonely  trail ; 

Lo  !  he  startles,  —  wliat  is  there  ? 
And  his  cheek  is  wan  and  pale  ;  — 

Now  is  seen — and  now  is  gone, — 
Vanished  —  like  the  little  maid. 

It  is  but  the  frightened  fawn 
Springing  in  the  dusky  shade. 


HA Y0-WENT'HA8  MOURNING. 


167 


Slowly,  as  in  anxious  quest, 
With  a  measured  step  he  strides  ; 

Greatly  heaves  his  mighty  breavst, 
As  a  mighty  grief  it  hides. 

Now  he  stalks  with  mournful  gaze 
Far  along  the  pebbly  strand  ; 

Now  his  troubled  feet  he  stays 
On  the  blood-besprinkled  sand. 


There  still  lies  the  awful  bird, 
Wide  its  broken  wings  are  spread : 

Now  his  deeper  soul  is  stirred, 
Grieving  for  the  loved  one  dead  ; 

To  his  ^'earning  fatherhood 
Now  he  bows  his  lofty  pride ; 

Now  is  loosed  the  anguished  flood, 
Where  the  beauteous  maiden  died. 


Low  he  bends  upon  the  sands 
Red  with  many  a  crimson  stain  ; 

Now  he  wrings  his  brawny  hands 
In  his  deei)ening  grief  ami  i)ain  ; 

Tears  that  at  their  fountain  stayed 
Water  all  the  grassy  plain  — 

Pouring  for  the  little  maid 
He  shall  never  see  again. 


I 


* 


168 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE   lUOi^l'OlS. 


Now  he  ill  Ills  sorrow  cries 
Till  the  woods  with  sorrow  wake, 

Oil  the  iiijjjlit-wind  wuils  and  siglis 
As  his  lovin<^  Jicart  would  l)reak  ; 

Till  the  lowly  listening  sea 
Answers  from  its  farther  sliore  : 

"Woe  is  me  !  Oh,  woe  is  me  ! — 
Woe  is  me  forevermore  ! !' 


Other  thoufjhts  more  poignant  stir 
Tn  his  heart  that  wanders  prone, 

Pierced  and  hleeding,  unto  her, — 
Her,  the  niotjier,  waiHiig  lone 

III  the  Yong-we's  home  and  place  ; 
Now  with  tearful  ej'es  and  red, 

Soon,  alas  !  to  wail  and  cry 
For  her  precious  darling  dead. 


T"p  and  down  the  purple  shore 
Wanders  dark  the  stricken  chief; 

III  his  sorrow  sorrowing  more 
For  her  trouble,  pain  and  grief: 

In  the  wigwam  left  behind. 
Mourning  for  her  parted  child, 

She  will  never  comfort  find 
For  her  ans^uish  fierce  and  wild. 


HAYO-WENT-HAS  MOURNING. 


im 


Hiirk  ! — in  miiny  a  si<;li  jukI  luoan,- 
Oh,  aius  !  tliat  ho  must  ^o 

111  his  (yhee-iuami  all  alone 
Where  Ti-o-to's  billows  flow  ! 

F]verinore  to  weep  :»nd  yearn, 
To  the  wi<?wani's  mat  and  shade 

How  can  he  a<;ain  return 
Takinif  not  the  little  maid  >'' 


How  the  bitter  tidinf^s  bear? 
Oh,  what  ill  might  her  betide, 

Seeing  Hayo-went-ha  there, 
But  no  maiden  by  his  side  ! 

How  that  dearer  heart  would  ache ! 
Can  he  meet  that  tearful  gaze  ? 

Oh,  the  tender  heart  may  Ijreak — 
Oh,  the  darkened  after-days  ! 

Tf  to  go  is  sorest  grief. 
Not  to  go  —  it  deepens  more ; 

Who  can  give  her  pain  rcdief, 
Waiting  on  that  troubled  shore  ? 

Watching  through  the  lonely  day 
Through  the  lonely  night  in  vain, 

For  the  loved  ones  far  away, 
She  will  never  see  again. 


fiPI 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0    ii'" 


ilM 
illM 


I.I 


IM 

1= 

1.8 


1.25 


14 


1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


^ 


'i1  ■■ 


170 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


\t^m 


Nobler  soul !    Though  uncontrolled 
Is  the  woe  thy  bosom  knows ; 

In  its  anguish  unconsoled, 
In  each  loving  tear  that  flows, 

For  the  loved  ones  pouring  free ; 
In  thy  pierced  and  bleeding  breast, 

In  its  pulse  of  agony 
Is  thy  greatness  more  confessed. 

Oh,  methinks  the  mighty  heart 
Bravest  in  the  battle-strife. 

Sorrowed,  feels  a  keener  smart ! 
He  that  girds  a  noble  life. 

He  that  deeds  heroic  dares. 
Deeds  that  most  do  greatness  prove, — 

Deeper  pain  his  bosom  bears. 
Throbbing  with  its  larger  love. 

Yet  shall  he,  so  sorely  pressed 
By  the  evil  hand  of  fate. 

Owning  in  a  deeper  breast 
Love  of  Oway-neo  great. 

Soonest  in  the  darkened  years 
Yield  the  pain  of  ills  that  throng 

To  the  medicine  o^  tears, — 
In  the  Faith  Immortal  strong. 


THE    i>EAGUE 


23 


■  '     -1 

■■■■::■'.   J 

■m 

PI 

; 

1 

^&LTo 

r 

iitinii'"i 

f 

II 


0  !  peerless  dream  of  Brotherhood  I 
Thou  art  Man's  noblest  heritage; 

Thejierfect  State,  the  final  good 
That  still  delays  from  age  to  age. 


Thy  fairest  fruit  still  ripens  late, 
0  !  Tree  of  Life  !  thy  hlossoms  new 

Give  rarer  promise ;  —  still  tee  wait 
'The  years  to  make  their  promise  true. 


■I  ■ 


XV 


THE    LEAGUE. 

In"  all  his  greatness  unsubdued, 
Nor  trace  betrayed  of  sorest  grief, 

He  wore  again  his  lofty  mood — ■ 
He,  Ongue  Honwe's  noblest  Chief; 

In  royal  mantle  rich  arrayed, 
The  royal  mantle  woven  fair, 

That  showed  in  many  a  to-tem  braid 
Inwove,  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  Bear. 


Though  in  the  kindling  Council-flame 
They  frowned  and  glowered  as  in  a  cage, 

The  mighty  beasts,  and  all  untamed, 
Could  scarce  restrain  their  fiery  rage  ;  — 

They  on  that  tranquil  bosom  great 
Now  low  with  peaceful  look  reclined  ; 

As  if  they  took  the  hue  and  state 
Of  Hayo-went-ha's  mood  and  mind. 


174 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Again, — the  Council  called, — he  broke 
The  silence  with  his  manly  word. 

Though  Hayo-went-ha  little  spoke. 
The  waiting  braves,  that  eager  heard, 

Kapt  hung  uijon  his  every  tone 
With  reverence  not  unmixed  with  awe  ; 

As  if  in  him,  so  proud  to  own 
Their  chieftain,  they  their  savior  saw. 


0 

"Brothers  !  wherefore  should  I  speak  ? 
More  can  Hayo-went-ha  say  ? 

You  —  the  after-thought  is  weak  — 
Heard  his  word  of  yesterday  ; 

Heard  what  Hayo-went-ha  spake, 
Word  of  Hayo-went-ha  true  ; 

Shall  to-day  the  Council  Ijreak, — 
But  to-day  is  left  to  do. 


"  Fair  the  smiles  that  on  us  ftrll 
From  Great  Oway-neo  won  ; 

Lo  !  his  cloudy  garments  all 
Has  he  taken  from  the  sun  ;  ^' 

He  that  sees  with  clearer  sight, 
Knowing  all  our  heart's  desire. 

Mildly,  with  approving  light, 
Brightens  on  our  Council  Fire. 


THE  LEAGUE. 

"  111  His  love  alone  v/e  rest ; 
He  be  praised  for  every  good  ; 

So  may  be  our  Council  blest, 
And  our  every  foe  sul)dued  ; 

Only  He  can  shield  from  harm 
When  our  fiercer  foes  assail ; 

Only  in  His  mighty  arm 
May  our  weaker  hand  prevail. 


175 


i 


"  Brothers  !  that  must  ever  be 
One  in  hope  and  one  in  fume, 

111  your  eyes  a  light  t  see 
Brighter  than  the  Council-flame 

When  its  midnight  brightness  fell; 
And  I  aiigur  from  its  ray 

You  have  pondered  wisely  well 
On  my  word  of  yesterday. 

"  Brothers  !  that  before  me  stand, 
Though  of  many  a  lodge  and  name, 

Though  of  many  a  tribe  and  band ; 
One  ill  liope,  and  one  in  aim  ; 

Shall  we  stand  —  or  shall  we  fall  ?  — 
Are  my  words  of  counsel  good  ? 

Are  your  hands  for  Union  all  ? 

Are  your  hearts  for  Brotherhood  ?  " 
— o 


176 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


There  fell  a  hush  on  all  the  land  — 
A  hush  portentous  as  a  cry  ; 

Then  with  one  tongue,  one  purpose  grand, 
Tn  peal  on  peal  that  thundered  l)y. 

Broke  from  the  answering  multitude  : 
"Yea!    Knee-hah !    Knee-hah !    E-ghe-a!" 

Reechoed  from  the  farthest  wood  — 

"Yea!  Father,  Father,  yea  ! "  and  "yea!" 
*^  )K  «  ,         >|t  «  >ic 

Ere  sank  the  scream  of  wakened  bird 
To  silence  on  the  widening  plain  ; 

Ere  Echo  there,  that  startled  heard, 
Had  ceased  to  answer  back  again  ; 

Ere  stilled  afar  the  lonely  Mahng 
Its  fright-awal^ened  moan  and  sigh  ; 

The  scared  Key-oshk  its  noisy  clang. 
The  great  Ke-neu  its  stormy  cry  ;  — 


He,  Hayo-went-ha,  rose  again, 
And  silence  on  the  moment  fell ; 

He  only  said  :  "Ye  noble  men  — 
Ye  Ongue  Hon  we — that  is  well." 

And  what  if  eyes  with  tears  were  dim 
If  so  they  most  might  love  confess ; 

He  blessed  them  for  their  love  of  him, 
But  more  for  love  of  nobleness. 


THE  LEAGUE. 


111 


Then  from  beneath  his  wondrous  vest 
He  drew  the  mighty  symbol-roll, 

With  many  a  mystic  sign  impressed  — 
A  curious  hieroglyphic  scroll. 

He  forth  the  sacred  parcel  brought 
And  on  the  ground  outspread  it  wide  ; 

The  snowy  parchment  dressed  and  wrought 
From  great  Skan-o-do's  hairy  hide/" 

And  every  line  whose  beauty  graced 
That  picture-writing  wide  unrolled, 

That  Hayo-went-ha's  hand  had  traced, 
Of  Hayo-went-ha  s  wisdom  told  ; 

He,  Oway-neo's  Prophet  true, 
And  greatly  taught  in  knowledge  thence. 

Of  type  and  sign  and  symbol  knew 
He  all  the  marvelous  secret  sense. 


First  on  that  picture-page  the  sun — 
The  rising  sun  —  was  paiuted  fair; 

The  emblem  of  the  Mighty  One 
Whose  dwelling-place  is  everywhere. 

And  dark  was  seen  the  gloomy  night 
lietreating  on  a  stormy  track ; 

As  He  alone  with  shining  light 
Could  drive  the  awful  shadows  back. 


1 

■      "-Ti- 

m 

9 

178 


THE  LL'AOUE   OF   THE  IHOQUOIS. 


all 


\  r 


m'i 


Near  Onondaga's  billows  were, 
Afar  the  lofty  Yo-noncl  stood  ; 

And  many  a  goodly  laud  and  fair 
He  pictured  —  wide  with  wave  aud  wood  ; 

With  lake  and  river,  hill  and  vale, 
And  grassy  plain  outstretched  between. 

Where,  traced  with  each  familiar  trail. 
His  scattered  People's  homes  were  seen. 

And  large  amid  the  Hyml)()ls,  framed 
He  fierce  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  aud  Bear, 

As  in  the  forest  free,  untamed  ; 
For  these  their  signs  anuorial  were. 

The  warriors'  royal  lieraldry, — 
Their  marks  and  to-tems  savage,  bold  ^ 

And  seeing,  each  well  knew  that  they 
Of  cunning,  patience,  valor  told. 

And  bright  beneath  the  rising  sun 
That  seemed  the  place  to  guard  and  bless, 

Five  lofty  wigwams  all  in  one 
Were  seen,  yet  separate  none  the  less ; 

And  this  the  sense,  the  meaning  lent: 
The  five  in  one  of  Union  showed  ; 

And  separate  none  the  less,  it  meant 
The  Union  wrought  of  Brotherhood. 


mfek 


THE  LEAGUE 


179 


And  there  were  drawn  five  brawny  Ininds, 
And  none  were  great  and  none  were  small ; 

Therein  was  told  —  the  several  l)ands 
United,  should  be  equal  all ; 

And  in  each  hand  a  bended  bow, 
From  each  an  arrow  speeding  fair  ; 

In  this  the  picture  sought  to  show 
That  all  should  equal  burdens  bear. 


Far-shining  glowed  the  Council-flame  ; 
Around  it  mighty  sachems  sit 

Enrobed  in  garb  of  warrior-fame, 
With  painted  faces,  glory-lit ; 

And  fairest  forms  of  womanhood  ; 
Therein  this  truth  he  sought  to  trace : 

In  cares  of  state — as  Woman  should — 
Should  Woman  have  her  part  and  place. 


49 


Bright  on  her  matron  brow  was  shown, 
And  glowing  like  a  coronet. 

And  on  her  matron  brow  alone — 
The  royal  signet,  regal  set ; 

And  tbis  I  read  on  pictured  page, 
Where  wisdom's  symbols  glow  and  shine  : 

In  her  all  titled  lineage  — 

Through  her  the  sachem's  noble  Hue." 

24 


'§» 


111 


Nl 
m 

_.f  4=  ■■t-^?-STi^ 

180 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Of  beiists  that  roam  the  wild  and  wood 
Did  savage  many  a  likeness  show  : 

The  fiercer  Yek-wai,  fat  and  good, 
The  hungry-howling  0-kwa-ho ; 

Skuu-o-do  with  his  antlered  head, 
The  snowy  Waii-bos,  tender-eyed, 

The  Jit-sho,  with  his  wary  tread, 
The  Ne-gig  with  his  sleeky  hide. 

xVnd  many  u  wondrous  bird  he  drew 
That  clove  the  air  or  swam  the  sea : 

The  war-bird,  him,  the  great  Ke-neu, 
The  Wa-wa  and  the  Wau-be-zee  ; 

And  many  a  home-bird,  such  as  sings 
To  charm  the  wigwam's  waiting  rest ; 

The  Shaw-shaw  with  its  shiny  wing. 
The  Wa-won-ais-se's  tender  breast ; 


I  ,. 


Great  0-uust,  bright  with  glowing  ears, 
And  wigwams  glad  with  happy  bands, 

And  bended  bows  and  sharpened  spears, 
And  plum6d  warriors,  clasping  hands. 

A  lofty  tree,  all  leafy-green. 
Outspread  its  branches  high  and  wide, 

Where  sat  the  sachems  wise,  serene, 
In  unity  and  love  allied. 


3 


THE  LEAGUE. 


181 


Round  iill  liis  hand  u  circle  drew  — 
Ilill,  vjd»;  !ind  niountuin,  j)lain  and  tree ; 

In  this  was  seen  the  witness  true 
Of  Union  tluit  should  endless  he. 

A  tliousand  forms  their  meaning  lent ; 
Each  type  and  symhol,  understood, 

Was  seen  the  sign  and  instrument 
Of  Union  and  of  Hrotherhood. 


I 


And  every  line  whose  beauty  graced 
That  strangely-written  »ncture-scroll 

That  Hayo-went-ha's  hand  had  traced, 
Of  Hayo-went-ha's  wisdom  told; 

And  where  he  stood,  he,  pointing  to 
Device  and  symbol,  speaking  thence. 

From  each  its  secret  meaning  drew. 
Expounding  all  'its  wondrous  sense. 

Then  forth  the  wampum-belt  wjus  brought 
The  i>recious  beads  were  Avove  and  strung, 

Each  with  its  mystic  meaning  fraught ; 
The  belt  that  speaks  with  wondrous  tongue  — 

The  symbols'  import  still  unfolds 
That  on  the  snowy  parchment  stood  ; 

The  covenant  and  record  holds — 
Deed  of  that  noble  Brotherhood." 


182 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


n 


And  when  into  each  shining  strand 
Was  braided  all  their  thought's  intent, 

Unto  the  wisest  sachem's  liand 
He  gave  the  mighty  instrument ; ''' 

To  guard  and  keep  its  sacred  page, 
Interpret  all  its  mystery, 

Its  prudent  laws,  its  precepts  sage, — 
To  make  a  people  great  and  free. 

And,  counseling  each  chieftain  brave 
As  he  had  been  a  worthy  son. 

He  unto  each  his  blessing  gave 
As  forth  he  called  them — one  ])y  one, 

To  paint  and  trace  with  willing  hand 
Beneath  the  Tortoise,  Wolf  and  Bear, 

The  to-tems  of  each  lodge  and  band, 
Their  names  and  tribal  to-tems  there. 


Then  Oway-neo's  Prophet  true. 
Great  Hayo-went-ha,  wise  and  good. 

Who  forth  the  dusky  nations  drew, 
Who  foremost  in  the  Council  stood  ; 

Who  stayed  with  love  war's  wasting  brand. 
Quelled  olden  feud  and  fell  intrigue, — 

Sealed  with  his  noble  name  and  hand 
That  Aquan-uschi-oni  League. 


I 


THE    FEAST. 


flBP 


■11 


How  had  it  marred  the  joy  complete. 
The  sweet  content  from  dangers  passed, 

If  they,  who  now  to  break  their  fast, 
Of  beast,  of  bread,  of  fish  did  eat,  — 

Who  with  the  Master  sat  at  meat, 
Had  known  that  feast  would  be  the  last. 


ll 


XVI 


THE    FEAST. 

Three  times  had  climbed  the  morning  sun, 
Now  hanging  at  his  highest  noon  ; 

Three  times  on  midnight  shadows  dun 
The  flaming  camp-fire  light  had  shone ; 

Three  days  beside  the  foaming  sea 
The  counseled  warrior-braves  had  stood  ; 

Ere  long  for  mighty  deeds  to  l)e 
Renowned, — a  noble  Brotherhood  ! 


Though  fear  had  fanned  the  Council-fianie, 
Hope  sweetly  brightened  on  its  close ; 

And  weaker  hearts,  that  trembling  came. 
Would  valiant  meet  their  fiercer  foes ; 

A  thousand  warriors,  painted  gay. 
Elate  of  friendly  Union  won, 

"Would  wait  the  feast,  then  far  away 
Would  bear  the  joyful  tidings  on. 


186  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Three  days  they  had  not  tasted  meat, 
But  with  siiblimest  purpose  wrought, 

Toiling  through  fast  to  make  complete 
The  fabric  of  their  mighty  Thought, 

Shaped  in  those  fearful  Council-days, 
To  live  when  all  the  braves  had  p.issed ; 

That  all  the  after  years  should  p-aise  : — 
Now  they  again  would  break  their  fast. 


Witl.  savor  that  did  most  delight 
Each  hungry  sense, —  so  sweet  and  good, 

In  many  a  bowl  all  snowy  white. 
The  Scho-ta-sa-min  baking  stood-; 

Great  0-iiust,  smoking,  waited  hot 
In  many  a  cake ;  the  hunters'  game 

Steamed  fragrant  in  each  earthen  pot, 
Hung  reeking  round  the  hissing  flame. 

The  fruit  of  manv  a  hunter-bow : 
Skan-0-do  from  the  leafy  wood, 

The  hungry-howling  0-kwa-ho, 
The  fiercer  Yek-wai  fat  and  good  ; 

The  wily  Be-zhu  prowling  dread. 
The  Me-sha-way  with  antlers  wide. 

The  Jit-sho  with  his  wary  tread. 
The  snowy  Wau-bos  tender-eyed. 


THE  FEAST, 


187 


With  many  u  scaly  beast  that  leaps 
And  flounders  in  the  watery  caves ; 

Great  Do-di-ah-to  from  the  deeps, 
The  Sah-\va  from  the  shallow  waves  ; 

Jik-on-sis  with  his  speckled  breast, 
0-nok-sa  glistening  like  the  morn, 

Da-hin-da  in  his  shining  vest, 
U-no-wul  in  his  shell  of  horn. 


And  many  a  bird  that  ran  or  flew : 
The  Ta-wis  and  the  Oghk-we-se, 

The  So-ha-ut  of  sable  line. 
The  Ka-lca  and  the  Kwa-ra-re. 

And  many  a  fowl  that  clanged  the  spring  : 
The  quacking  So-ra  from  the  brake. 

The  Wau-be-zee  with  downy  wing, 
The  honking  Wa-wa  from  the  lake. 


Great  Ke-ka-dah-nong  on  the  sand, 
Kwan-Run-ge-a-gosh  on  the  tide  ;  — 

All  creatures  of  the  sea  and  land 
Had  yielded  up  their  lives  and  died. 

Of  fish  and  reptile,  bird  and  beast. 
Or  named  or  nameless,  there  and  then 

Was  wide  outspread  the  mighty  feast 

To  feed  a  thousand  hungry  men." 

25 


! 


*!^ 


!^1 


188  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IP.OQUOIS. 

And  Hayo-went-ha,  rising  there, 
While  brightened  more  his  prophet-face, 

AVith  presence  meet  and  reverent  air, 
He  murmured  simplest  words  of  grace : 

"Be  unto  the  Great  Spirit  praise  ; 
Lo  !  has  he  all  our  wants  supplied  ; 

If  grateful  hearts  we  bear  always, — 
So  shall  he  evermore  provide.'' 

As  mindful  of  all  courtesy 
And  just  respect  to  greatness  due, 

They  of  tlie  parts  that  sweetest  be 
Of  bird  or  beast  or  soup  or  stew, — 

Though  waiting  sore  with  hunger  pressed, 
Their  honored  Chief  to  honor  more, 

Of  all  the  parts  they  chose  the  best 
And  unto  Hayo-went-ha  bore." 


ill 


-— - 

I 

1 

■  i 

1 

Then  unto  each,  or  chief  or  brave, 
They  brought,  nor  overlooked  the  least ; 

But  as  is  fit,  in  order  gave 
To  each  a  portion  of  the  feast ; 

From  roasting  meat,  or  steaming  pot, 
With  flesh  of  beast,  or  fowl  or  fish. 

Or  cake  of  0-nust,  smoking  hot. 
Was  oft  refilled  each  empty  dish. 


THE  FEAST. 


189 


As  glad  they  would  the  hour  delay, 
In  free,  but  not  uusoeuily  mirth, 

With  laugh  and  jest  they  whiled  the  day  ; 
With  friendly  gossip,  little  worth, 

Or  story  humorous  did  grace 
The  social  hour, —  or  interspersed 

The  bold  adventures  of  the  chase  ; 
Or  deeds  of  other  days  rehearsed. 

Nor  ended  was  that  goodly  feast 
Till  last  of  all  the  hunter's  game. 

Of  fish  or  reptile,  bird  or  beast, 
That  hung  around  the  hissing  flame. 

By  hand  with  hunger's  strength  imbued, 
Each  bone  from  bone  was  torn  and  cleft ; 

Still  ate  and  ate  the  multitude 
Till  all  were  filled,  and  naught  was  left. 


Then  forth  the  waiting  pJpe  was  brought :" 
Unto  the  genial,  calm  content 

The  feast  in  every  breast  had  wrought, 
Its  cheerful,  soothing  solace  lent ; 

And  touched  as  with  en.chanter's  wand. 
Their  eyes  beyond  the  wreathing  mist 

Far-looking,  saw  the  Shining  Land, — 
The  happy  Spirit's  Hom:'  and  rest. 


190  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

While  as  the  long  day  slowly  wore, 
Apart  the  patriarchs  sedate 

Sat  pensive,  as  they  thoughtful  bore 
The  burdens  and  the  cares  of  state  ; 

Or,  so  tbey  thought  to  understand 
The  will  —  so  little  understood — 

Of  him,  the  mighty  Wa-zha-wand, — 
Still  pondering  on  their  people's  good. 

With  bony  quoits  and  plum-stone  dice. 
With  each  its  number.,  place  and  rank 

On  which  is  carved  a  strange  device, — 
Ind  these  do  count,  and  those  are  bhmk,- 

"The  youthful  warriors  stand  or  sit 
To  take  in  turn  their  chance  and  throw ; 

Their  faces  weird  and  passion-lit, 
In  wizard  game  of  Kun-ta-soo. 


Now  one  elate,  the  bowl  he  shakes, 
But  turns  unlucky  number, —  fails  ; 

Another  hand  the  venture  takes, — 
Perchance  a  lucky  cast  prevails  ; 

He  that  has  lost  his  shaft  and  bow 
Will  find  a  better  fortune  yet ; 

The  next  may  be  a  happy  throw — 
He  higher  piles  the  stake  and  bet. 


THE  FEAST. 


191 


The  eagle-plumes  that  him  arrayed, 
His  pipe  that  sweetest  solace  brought, 

His  costly  belts  of  wampum-braid, 
His  pouches — all  his  hamls  have  wrought, 

He  stakes  upon  uncertain  throws. 
The  very  moccasins  he  wears ; 

Or,  as  the  game  to  frenzy  grows. 
The  wolf-skin  robe  his  bosom  bears. 


And  some,  the  braves  of  lighter  mood, 
Whose  joy  in  wildest  echoes  rang. 

Along  the  sward  or  sat  or  stood, 
Or  ran  or  wrestled,  whooped  or  sang ; 

While  from  each  string,  swift-speeding  free, 
Afar  the  willing  arrows  sped ; 

Or  darkly  clashed  on  barky  tree 
The  flinty  war-ax,  winging  dread. 


Or  wide  anon  the  chfillenge  ran 
With  many  a  noisy  shout  and  call. 

As  chose  the  leaders  each  his  man 
For  nobler  game  of  Bat  and  Ball. 

They  here  the  nearest  limit  set, 
And  there  they  fix  the  farthest  goal ; 

Still  piling  high  the  stake  and  l)et 
Of  blankets,  weapons,  trinkets — all." 


Ill 


102 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE   IROQUOIS. 


Then  midway  there  the  ball  they  brought ; 
Tossed  high  in  air ;  each  waiting  bat 

Of  hundred  arms,  and  stalwart,  sought 
To  catch  it ;  while  this  way  and  tliat 

Tt  whirled  and  sped  along  the  plain  ;  — 
Now  this,  and  now  that  bound  was  nigh  ; 

Then  stayed; — in  triumph  back  again 
Was  brought — with  scuffle,  shout  and  cry. 


Still  each  with  each  did  strive  and  cope  — 
Did  race  and  scamper  back  and  forth  ; 

And  each  in  turn  elate  with  hope, 
As  east  or  west  or  south  or  north. 

Swept  by  the  adverse  struggling  throng, 
It  leaped  and  tossed  and  bounded  on  ; 

Until,  by  him  most  fleet  and  strong 
Borne  past  the  goal,  the  game  was  won. 

While  yet  the  feast  betokened  glad. 
Where  late  the  solemn  council  broke 

Sat  Hayo-went-ha,  brooding  sad. 
And  little  ate  and  nothing  spoke  ; 

As  bowed  in  fear  or  wrapped  in  awe, 
Or  felt  the  touch  of  sorrow  dim  ; 

Some  waiting  grief;  —  wliate'er  he  saw, 
The  shadow  darkened  but  to  him. 


THE  FEAST. 


198 


Swift  wore  the  day  in  joy  uiid  mirth 
Oil  iiol)k'!st  tk't'd  of  Union  won, 

Fsiir  smiled  the  gk)ry-m!intk'd  earth 
Lit  hy  the  slow-descending  sun. 

And  with  the  falling  i)ejiee  and  rest 
That  laj  on  all  the  forest  dim, 

There  kindled  in  each  dusky  breast 
The  thought  of  home  that  waited  liini. 


Through  gloomy  miles  of  wooded  wild 
He  sees  the  wigwam  bright  arrayed  ; 

He  sees,  perchance,  a  wife  and  child 
Sit  trembling,  of  the  foe  afraid. 

Or  the  young  l)rave,  late  lightly  gay. 
Feels  all  his  manly  ])os()ni  yearn 

Unto  the  maiden  far  away,. 
Now  lonely  waiting  his  return. 


Again  at  Hayo-went-ha's  call 
His  lowly  People  listening  stood  ; 

A  thousand  warriors,  valiant  all, 
And  now  a  noble  Brotherhood  ; 

Their  footsteps  lightly  nearer  drew — 
In  silence  pressed  the  grassy  sward  ; 

To  yield  to  him  the  reverence  due. 
The  dear  regard,  lovers  best  reward. 


194  THE  LEAGUE   OF   THE   lUOQUOJS. 

The  westering  sun  that  tranquil  shorie 
Seemed  burdened  with  a  niournfulness  ; 

Or  something  in  his  deeper  tone, 
Portent  of  wliat  they  might  not  guess, 

They  felt,  when  Hayo-went-ha  spoke  ;  — 
Foreboding  sad,  though  none  might  tell 

What  gritif  presaged,  that  darkly  woke 
The  troubled  dread  of  coming  ill. 


No  brow  but  showed  a  trace  of  care. 
No  eye  Init  free  bedewed  the  plain 

With  tears,  as  Yo-yo-hon-to  there 
Ran  —  brimming  with  the  summer  rain. 

And  close  and  closer  round  him  drew 
The  braves,  the  while  their  hearts  were  stirred 

To  listen  to  his  last  adieu, — 
To  Hayo-went-ha's  parting  word. 


HAYO-WENT-HA'S 


PAliTING     WORDS. 


26 


A  new  Evangel^  greater  tliun 
The  tvorld  has  known,  the  Ages  wait; 

To  erenj  race,  or  soon  or  late. 
Is  born  a  Truth- insjnred  Man, 

Some  spirit  wise  to  teach  and  lead: 
And  happy  theij  who,  high  or  low, 

Their  risen  Prophet,  seeing,  know, — 
His  wiser  precepts  hark  and  heed. 


-:|  } 


XVII 

HAYO-WENT-HA'S  PARTING  WORDS. 

Brothers  ! — that  before  me  stand — 
Brothers  !  I  do  ]ove  you  well ; 

Hearken  !  Brothers  hearken  ! !  —  and 
Do  not  grieve  for  that  I  tell ; 

Ilayo-went-ha  takes  to-day 
For  the  last  your  parting  hand  ; 

Hayowent-ha  goes  away, — 
Goes  he  to  the  Spirit  Land. 


He  can  see  a  glory  shine 
You  may  see  not ;  and  from  thence 

Comes  the  warning  and  the  sign  : 
ITayo-went-ha  hastens  hence ; 

Leaves  you  at  the  close  of  day, 
Leaves  you  at  the  set  of  sun ; 

Hayo-went-ha  may  not  stay, 
Hayo-weut-lia's  work  is  done. 


1  n 


[r ,;  1 


198 


THE  LEAGUE   OF   THE  IliOQUOIS. 


'i  ' 


0  my  People  !  unto  you 
All  these  years,  and  Jiot  iu  vain, 

Has  lie  been  as  father  true, 
Bearing  all  your  grief  and  pain  ; 

And  each  widely  scattered  hand, 
Dwelling  in  the  farthest  wood. 

Has  he  taught  to  understand 
Well  his  precepts  wise  and  good. 


Taught  you  liow  to  huild  with  ])ride 
Homes  Avhere  comforts  more  ahound  ; 

Build  your  wigwams  high  and  wide. 
Softly  matting  all  the  ground  ; 

Of  the  to-tem's  use  and  place, 
Of  the  Tortoise,  Wolf,  ami  Bear  — 

All  the  syiuhols  of  our  race  ; 
Of  the  Wampum,  l)raided'Yair. 


Toiling,  \\i^  with  i)atient  hand 
AVidened  all  the  grassy  plain  ; 

Cleared  the  rivers  ;  1)}'^  his  liand 
Were  the  frightful  monsters  slain  ; 

Made  he  fairer  hunting-grounds, 
A\  here  JSkun-o-do,  0-kwa-ho — ■ 

All  the  nohler  game  ahounds  ; 
Wrought  for  you  the  hunter-bow. 


UAYOWENT-HAS  PARTING   WORDS. 

All  the  flinty  missiles  -wrought ; 
Shaped  the  arrow,  strung  the  bow 

With  such  mighty  blessings  fraught ; 
All  their  use  he  showed  to  you. 

All  the  good  of  labor  born  : 
How  to  mellow  well  the  fields  ; 

How  to  tend  the  springing  corn, 
That  such  grateful  bounty  yields. 


199 


Now,  where  in  remembered  years 
Only  frightful  monsters  trod, 

Shine  great  0-nust's  luscious  ears, 
Scho-ta-sa-min's  wondrous  pod  ; 

And  the  farthest  valleys  show 
Fair  in  Autumn's  windy  days 

Happy  maids  that  coiue  and  go, — 
Bearing  home  the  ripeiu'd  maize. 


Often,  where  might  knowledge  show 
Most  her  sacred  mystery 

Unto  him  that  yearns  to  know. 
In  his  Choe-niaun  journeyed  he 

Far  away  ;  —  again  returned  : 
Seeking  —  wisdom  sought  to  find  ; 

More  life's  deeper  secrets  learned, 
Bringing  theuce  a  wiser  miud. 


Mf^  ■ 


'  :1 


200  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Standing  in  the  Council-place 
Has  he  tav.ght  you  to  be  strong 

In  the  battle,  in  the  chase ; 
Ever  swift  to  right  the  wrong, 

And  no  less  the  good  requite — 
To  be  wise  as  to  be  great ; 

Taught  you  that  the  arm  of  might 
Must  on  Oway-neo  wait. 

Tliougli  the  warrior's  noble  crown 
Is  the  trophy  and  the  scar, 

And  the  glorious  renown 
Won  in  honorable  war  ;  — 

Taught  he  of  a  fairer  fame 
With  all  manliness  arrayed  ; 

By  the  home-delighting  flame, 
By  the  wigwam's  mat  and  shade. 


And  the  fairest  gift  of  all 
That  his  willing  hand  has  wrought, 

That  shall  never  darkly  fall. 
But  with  fullest  blessing  fraught 

To  all  people  everywhere, 
Dwellers  in  the  farthest  wood, 

Shall  a  proud  example  bear, — 
Is  this  Bond  of  Brotherhood. 


It  through  all  the  yea«  ,,.„„,; 
Till  all  nobleness  shall  fail  • 

And  to  each  protection  give, 
Jl'«t  no  foe  n,ay  dare  assail, 

«"t  m  coward  weakness  flee- 
Fleen,  trembling  terror,  when 

Un  the  war-path  bold  they  see 
Aquan-uschi-oni  Men." 

Brothe^  -  that  before  me  .stand, 
Yo.uny  People's  bond  and  stay 

Clnefs  and  braves  of  many  a  band - 
Bmlde.-s  of  the  coming  day 

ft-others!  as  T  still  were  near, 
Be  ye  bold  and  brave  ard  true  • 

I'sten!  while  you  still  may  ;,ear,- 
Hayo-went-ha's  words  are  few 


201 


Brothe«!  keep  the  Couueil-flame 
Bright  as  ,s  to-day  its  blaze  • 

And  that  more  yonr  name  and  fame 
Heighten  in  the  after-days 

Know  ye,  who  to  lead  an' 1  teach 

J-oremost  in  the  Council  stand 

He  who  wisest  is  in  speech,  ' 
"e  IS  greatest  in  the  land. 


i 


202 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Brothers  !  when  3'ou  come  and  go 
On  tlie  wur-patli  fur  rtiid  fleet, 

When  3'ou  bear  the  hunter-bow 
On  the  liills  with  flying  feet ; 

Where  you  roam  or  where  you  dwell, 
Let  your  mighty  deeds  confess, — 

As  [  still  were  with  you  —  tell 
Onguk  Honwe's  nobleness. 


Far,  by  rivers  flowing  free, 
Where  the  great  hills  stretch  amain. 

Near,  beside  the  murmuring  sea. 
Over  all  the  vale  and  plain, 

Glad  and  joyous  everywhere 
Shall  your  wigwams  brightly  throng ; 

Aud  the  twilight  falling  fair 
Light  the  dance  and  wake  the  song. 


So  shall  all  j^our  after-fame 
Find  no  less  a  shining  place  ; 

Bearing  many  a  noble  name 
Worthy  of  our  noble  race  ; 

And  your  deeds  to  latest  days 
Farthest  wigwam-homes  beside, 

Shall  your  children's  children  praise, 
Call  your  names  with  love  and  pride. 


fif 


HAYO-\VKST-UA  S  J'.HiTLS'fr    HOHDS. 


203 


And  tlic  People  far  awuy 
By  the  Gitclie  Guniee  flood, 

Pointing  to  your  homes  shall  say  : 
'"  Lo  !  a  mighty  Brotherhoori ! 

All  are  brothers  —  that  is  well." 
And  no  fear  may  darken  then 
On  your  path,  for  all  shall  tell : 
"Onguk  Honwe — Mighty  Men  !" 


And  the  Nations  that  shall  stand 
In  the  future,  bold  and  free. 

Thickly  thronging  all  the  land 
Like  the  pebbles  by  the  sea, — 

From  example  wise  and  good 
Shall  they  to  all  greatness  grow, 

To  a  mighty  Brotherhood  ; 
And  all  men  be  bettered  so/' 


Brothers  !  wherefore  do  you  weep  ? 
Be  ye  bold  and  brave  and  true  ; 

Brothers  all  —  my  precepts  keep, 
And  my  love  I  leave  with  you ; 

Oway-neo  high  above, 
Shield  you  from  each  base  intrigue  ; 

Shield  you  with  his  mighty  love. 
Strengthen  more  this  Bond  and  League. 
27 


,■    7 


Mr;: 


204  r//^  LEAGUE  OF  THE  lUOQUOlS. 

Brothers  !  I  do  take  to-day 
For  the  hist  your  parting  hand  ; 

Hiayo-went-h'i  ;roes  away  — 
Goes  he  to  the  Br-tter  Laiid  ; 

He  can  see  a  glory  shine 
You  may  see  not,  and  from  thence 

Comes  the  warning  and  the  sign, 
Hayo-went-ha  hastens  hence. 

Inigorio  tlie  Good  — 
May  his  Spirit  with  you  dwell ; 

Brothers  !  —  noble  Brotherhood  ! 
Ongue  Honwe,  fare  you  well. 

Be  you  by  my  counsels  led, 
Keep  my  precepts  every  one  ; 

Hayo-went-ha, —  he  has  said, 
]layo-went-ha  — he  is  done. 


HAYO-WENT-ITA'S 


DEPARTURE. 


i 


i 


.Ml!'' 
,    i" 

li" 

I.  It 

ii 


t  f 


:\ 


If  but  a  dream,  a  dream  divine 
The  Poets  sing,  the  Painters  paint: 

That  brow  of  Prophet  and  of  Saint 
With  glory's  morning  splendors  shine. 


Or  is  it  thus  the  Gods  decree  r* 
A  nd  all  the  nobler  Souls  that  go. 

Bright  haloed  rise,  transfigured  so — 
Clothed  on  with  Immortality  ? 


XVITI 

HAYO-WENT-HA'S    DEPARTURE. 
» 

Fair  iu  the  lessening  light  he  stood. 
He,  Oway-neo's  Prophet  great ; 

Bright  glowed  his  form  as  if  imbued 
With  something  of  immortal  state  ; 

With  rarer  light  his  quickened  soul 
Had  interfused  his  grosser  clay, 

As  soon  to  win  life's  crown  and  goal  — 
To  tread  the  waiting  Halls  of  Day. 


In  royal  mantle  rich  arrayed, 
The  royal  mantle  woven  fair, 

That  showed  in  many  a  to-tem  braid 
Inwove,  the  Tortoise,  Wolf,  and  Bear, — 

In  moccasins  with  the  marvelous  hem 
And  snowy  leggins,  beaded  grand, 

Inwrought  with  many  a  curious  gem,- 
He  trod  the  Onondaga  strand. 


I  ' 


208 


77/ A"   LEAGUE  OF  THE  lliOQlOIS. 


1 

J 

I^  9  ^^^^^^^^^H 

^^^^^^^^B 

i 

iH^^^^^^B 

1 

i%i|^^^H 

And  forth  again  the  wondrous  barge 
From  out  its  secret  phice  he  brought ; 

Bore  softly  to  the  pebbly  marge 
The  bark  by  mystic  fingers  wrought ; 

The  Chee-niaun  blest  of  Manito, 
Nor  paddle  had  —  nor  need  of  one, 

That  swiftly  on,  and  onward  drew 
When  Hayo-went-ha  willetl  it  on. 

It  erst  had  many  a  storm  withstood  ; 
Him  with  his  mighty  bow  it  bore 

To  slay  the  monsters  of  the  flood  ; 
And,  oft  in  halcyon  days  before. 

To  far  Ti-o-to,  bright  im pearled, 
When  love  lit  all  the  pebbly  strand  : 

0  Love  !  that  beautifies  the  world  — 
Makes  every  land  a  summer-land  ! 

Upon  the  flaming  wings  of  morn, 
With  valor's  quickened  pulse  imbued, 

Oft  to  the  Council-place  had  borne 
Him,  Hayo-went-ha,  great  and  good  ; 

And  far  on  many  a  stranger  sea : 
Wherever  most  might  knowledge  loose 

Her  sacred  seal,  or  glory  be  ;  — 
But  now  should  prove  its  nobler  use. 


HA  YO-  WEST-IIa's   UEI'AUTVUE. 


209 


Like  pilgrim  homo-returning  late 
With  eager  feet,  it  lightly  pressed 

The  springing  title,  us  loth  to  wait 
To  bear  him  to  his  peace  iiiid  rest ; 

To  gently  bear  him,  fleet  and  free 
To  faintly  glimmering  isles  away, 

Beyond  the  land,  beyond  the  sea, 
Beyond  the  fading  rim  of  Day. 


Yet  where  the  billow  lightly  laves 
He  lingers  on  the  peljbly  strand 

Amid  the  well-belovud  braves, — 
Delays  —  to  take  the  parting  hand  ; 

As  bearing  in  a  father's  heart 
The  love,  the  grief  no  tongue  can  tell ; 

As  loth  to  stay,  as  loth  to  part, 
Delavs  he  still  the  last  farewell. 


Or  saddened  at  their  grief  and  tears, 
The  noble  warriors,  true  and  tried  ! 

Or  tender  thought  the  spot  endears 
Where  she,  the  little  maiden  died ; 

Or  would  his  anguished  spirit  stay 
Where  weeping  loved  ones  strive  and  mourn  ? 

Or  yearns  his  heart  to  her  away  — 
Nyah-tah-wanta,  reft  and  lorn  ? 


I  in 


I'-li 

I'ii  I  ' 
It 


210  a //A"  LEAGVK   OF   THE  lllOQi'OIS. 

She  by  Ti-o-to  waitihg  him  : 
Lone  watcliiiig  till  the  day  is  done, 

Lone  watching  through  tlie  midnight  dim, 
Lone  watching  till  the  morning  sun ; 

She  that  his  heart  liad  sweetly  blessed, 
Made  glad  the  wigwam's  mat  and  shade. 

Who  now  might  soothe  that  aching  breast, 
Prone  in  its  anguish  disarrayed  ? 


No  more  to  rmi  with  eager  feet 
To  greet  him  on  the  waiting  shore  ! 

What  grief  and  pain  with  her  to  meet ! 
But  not  to  meet,  it  deepens  more. 

And  oh  !  to  eyes  that  tearful  be 
How  dim  would  show  the  Halls  of  Day  ; 

How  could  he  dwell  content,  and  she, 
Nyah-tah-wauta,  far  away  ? 


Or  fairer  tuan  the  kindling  dawn, 
In  widening  sundown  tiaring  red, 

Sees  he  the  little  maiden  gone — 
Sees  he  the  father's  darling  dead  ? 

Dead  ?  —  Nay  !  but  in  that  ]3etter  Laud 
And  radiant  in  all  virgin  charms 

Sees  he  the  dear  one  waiting  stand. 
Or  sweetly  clasped  in  loving  arms. 


HA  YO  -  WENT-HA  S  DEPAli  TUBE. 


211 


Sees  he  the  forms  of  chieftains  old, 
Familiar  shapes  of  noble  braves, 

The  vanished  shades  of  warriors  bokl ; 
Above  the  glory-bounded  waves 

They  beckon  him.  they  glow  and  shine, 
The  wider  Hunting  Grounds  they  roam ; 

And  waits  he  but  the  day's  decline 
To  waft  him  to  that  dearer  home. 


Low  sinks  the  slow-descending  sun  : 
Now  on  the  sward  his  people  throng. 

To  so — until  the  day  i^-"  done  — 
A  little  space  his  stay  prolong  ; 

Around  him  press  with  eager  feet, 
Or  hurry  to  the  parting  place  ; 

To  yield  to  him  the  reverence  meet, — 
To  clasp  him  in  a  last  embrace. 

Fair  on  the  tide  the  orb  of  Day 
Hangs  like  a  shield  of  warrior-fame  ; 

Now  level  shoots  his  fiery  ray 
Like  warrior-arrow,  tipped  with  tlame, 

A  glory  on  the  wave  and  wood  ; 
Far-brightening  all  the  sea  and  wold. 

Now  crimson  in  the  burnished  flood 
He  dips  his  shining  disk  of  gold. 

28 


212  TJJE  LEAGUE  OF   THE  IIWQUOIS. 

Still  on  the  softly-murmuring  marge 
His  latest,  lingering  footsteps  show, 

Where  lightly  waits  the  mystic  barge 
For  Hayo-went-ha,  soon  to  go  ; 

All  glory-mantled  stands  the  Chief, 
As  touched  with  an  iminortal  spell ; 

In  pity  for  his  People's  grief. 
Delays  he  still  the  last  farewell.  . 


MHi 


Lo  !  now  he  takes  the  parting  hand  ; 
Lo  I  now  is  said  the  parting  word  ; 

Now  parts  the  Chet-maun  from  the  strand- 
Goes  speeding  like  the  wing  of  I)ird 

Far  on  the  Inllows  looming  large  ; 
The  warriors  brave,  in  sorrow  new, 

Gaze  tearful  on  that  fleeting  barge ; 
He  beckons  back  a  last  adieu. 

Now  faintly  from  the  fading  shore 
Sad  hears  he  on  the  widening  sea : 
"0  Knee-ha  !  Knee-ha  !  —  nevermore  J 
O  Father !  Father  !  —  woe  is  me  !  i" 

Still  fainter  to  his  ear  arise 
His  people's  anguished  cry  and  moan 

For  Hayo-went-ha  great  and  wise — 
For  noble  Hayo-went-ha  gone. 


'c 


HA YO- WEST-UAS  DEPARTURE. 


213 


A  song,  like  the  Immortars  song, 
Now  thrills  each  lowly,  aching  breast, 

Far-wakes  the  tranquil  shores  along, 
Lulls  the  low-lapsing  waves  to  rest ; 

Charms  all  the  rapt,  enchanted  strand, 
Soft  trembles  on  the  listening  sea. 

As  dwellers  in  the  Shining  Land 
There  woke  their  joyous  minstrelsy. 

Now  more  the  shadows  deepen  down : 
On  all  that  sorrow  doepens  more, 

That  sweetest  music  may  not  drown ; 
More  faint  along  the  dusky  shore. 

The  voices  from  the  bright  Beyond 
In  wonder-waking  song  are  heard, — 

More  tender  than  love's  yearnings  fond. 
And  sweeter  than  the  song  of  bird. 


iiiini! 


Thence  had  the  Shining  Spirits  come. 
Low-wandering  from  the  shores  of  Dawn, 

To  bear  great  Hayo-went-ha  home. 
From  toil  and  grief  of  earth  withdrawn  ; 

On  airy  pinions  bear  him  hence  — 
Above  life's  weaker  part  up])orne ; 

To  taste  the  bliss  and  recomi)ense 
Of  Virtue  on  the  Hills  of  Morn. 


A\'      t 


214  THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Still  far  the  sunset's  fiery  glow 
Trails  reddening  o'er  the  crystal  wells  ; 

The  cloven  waves  like  rubies  show  — 
A  warmer  wish  the  bark  impels ; 

Still  on,  and  on  ;  —  now  high  in  air; 
Still  up,  and  on  —  more  darkly  dim  ; 

Still  up,  away  ;  —  now  seeming  fair 
On  pearly  clouds  to  dance  and  swim. 

More  faint  and  far — more  fleet  and  free, 
To  where  the  shadows  come  and  go ; 

Beyond  the  land  —  beyond  the  sea — 
Beyond  the  daylight's  fading  glow ; 

To  Oway-neo's  Home  ;  away 
Beyond  where  sunset-glory  smiles  ; 

Beyond  the  gateways  of  the  Day, — 
To  Inigorio's  Happy  Isles. 


r^y 


rilE    BKOKEN    HEART. 


i^ 


mm 


li  :! 


Who  holds  this  but  a  doubtful  creed , 
All  sorrow  hath  its  use  and  need; 

The  keenest  anguish,  most  intense 
That  ever  suffering  bosom  bore, 
Its  after- jog  may  heighten  more; 

No  pain  but  hath  its  recompense. 


And  you,  0  tender  Soul  !  if  such 

There  be,  who  never  felt  the  touch 
Of  sore  affliction's  sting  and  smart. 

Had  never  sorrow  to  assuage  ; 

Turn  back, —  nor  read  this  tearful ^mge- 
This  story  of  a  broken  heaH. 


I  ()iS 


XTX 


THE    BROKEN    HEART. 

The  lofty  oak  that  proudly  stands 
To  drink  the  summer's  sun  and  rain, 

The  glory  of  the  forest-lands, 
A  beauty  on  the  verdured  plain, — 

Though  it  the  tempest  spares  alone. 
Though  cloven  through  its  robe  of  green, 

Bereft  of  branches,  wildly  strown. 
Will  weave  anew  its  leafy  screen. 


Yet  grows  no  tree  in  all  the  wood, 
In  all  the  grove-emmantled  vale. 

That  blooms  to  charm  the  solitude 
And  glad  the  morning's  breath  inhale, — 

But,  if  rude  hand  with  hapless  art 
Deep  ring  the  barky  stem  around 

Whence  flows  the  sap  to  feed  the  heart, 
Will,  withered,  topple  to  the  ground. 


It'  -. 


218 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IliOi^UOIS. 


im 


/;r 


iii 


':  ':\-i 


! 


So,  when  the  floodn  of  singuisli  l)rc'ak 
Fierce  on  the  soul  in  storm  and  gloom, 

Though  leaving  but  a  faded  wreck 
Of  fond  affection's  leafy  bloom, 

Unsevered  from  love's  kindly  root, 
When  passed  the  tempest-tiding  grief. 

The  riven  heart  may  newly  shoot, — 
The  blighted  life  renew  its  leaf. 


But  quench  in  over-anguished  breast 
The  lire  that  lights  its  secret  shrine  ; 

Take  from  it  every  good  possessed. 
Let  Hope  her  failing  lamp  resign  ; 

Make  every  pulse  a  throl)  of  care, 
A  deathless  pang  of  memory  ; 

Make  longing  vain,  and  love  despair. 
And  life  itself  will  cease  to  be. 


And  long,  0  loyal  heart  and  true  ! 
Amid  the  forest  solitude. 

Beside  Ti-o-to's  glimmering  blue 
Nyah-tah-wanta  lonely  stood ; 

The  long,  long  day,  with  longing  vain. 
Gazed — till  her  eyes  with  tears  were  dim  ; 

Heard  in  the  billows'  sad  refrain 
Alone  love's  mournful  requiem. 


THE  nnoKEy  heart. 


219 


Though  eager  loolced  her  tearful  eyes 
To  see  some  home- rot  timing  trace, 

Oil,  never  on  her  sight  would  rise 
That  Chee-maun  from  the  Council-place  ! 

Nor  form  of  him,  heloved,  for  whom 
She  patient  watched  each  lonely  day; 

Whose  smile  alone  could  light  the  gloom, 
Could  kindle  new  life's  failing  ray. 

Still  up  and  down  hor  footsteps  pressed. 
Unmarked  the  shadows  falling  dim  ; 

She,  wearied,  felt  no  weariness. 
But  only  care  for  her  and  him  ; 

For  her,  the  little  maiden  sweet, 
Joy  of  the  life  from  whence  it  grew  ; 

For  him  so  wise  and  good  and  great, 
Who  might  the  wigwam's  joy  renew. 


The  dews  of  midnight  cold  and  wet 
Fell  on  her  woman's  brow  of  care. 

Till  silvered  shone  each  tress  of  jet ; 
Though  late  with  aching  brow  and  l)are 

She  waited  on  the  troubled  shore. 
She  heeded  not  the  falling  chill ; 

But  ft  It  her  sorrow  deepen  more. 
But  felt  the  fear  forel)oding  ill ; — 

29 


m 


220  THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 

Still  straining  Avide  her  tearful  sight 
Along  the  billows  far  away  ; 

Sad  watching  throngh  the  lonely  night, 
Sad  watching  through  the  lonely  day 

Till  dark  the  shadows  fell  again, 
Nor  recked  of  hunger's  gnaw  and  smart ; 

But  felt  love's  keener  fast  and  pain, — 
The  fiercer  hunger  of  her  heart. 


If  fain  at  whiles  her  mat  to  press. 
She  sought  the  wigwam  waiting  lone, 

No  sleep  such  anguished  eyes  would  l)less- 
Would  charm  the  lids  so  tearful  grown  ; 

For  haunting  dark  her  tender  breast 
Would  come  the  thought  of  pain  and  dread 

No  more  that  widowed  couch  of  rest 
Might  pillow  sweet  each  dearer  head. 


'  la 


MM: 


Or,  when  through  many  a  cloudy  cleft 
Wo-ne-da's  softened  splendors  smiled, 

She,  rising  thence,  and  more  bereft. 
Forth  by  love's  waning  hope  beguiled, 

Afar  with  hapless  feet  would  stray. 
With  mournful  step,  more  feeble  grown  ; 

To  watch  the  orient's  kindling  ray 
And  hark  Ti-o-to's  rippled  moan. 


THE  liHOKKS   11 E ART. 


221 


To  gaze  along  tlie  foiiiiiiiig  ik'op 
Slio  early  came,  she  lingered  late, 

To  weep  and  watch,  to  watch  and  weep,- 
A  stricken  soul  and  desolate. 

And  many  a  night,  and  many  a  day 
Her  failing  footsteps  went  and  came 

Along  the  darkened  home-led  way, — 
Hope  lighting  faint  life's  flickering  flame. 


Still  o'er  the  sward  she  came  and  went, 
Still  seeming  more  a  passing  shade — 

Some  brightness  for  a  moment  lent ; 
Till  prone  beside  the  withered  glade 

The  paling  Summer  weeping  sat, 
To  miss  the  dear,  familiar  tread  ; 

While  fevered  on  her  lowly  mat 
Low-moaning  lay  that  gentle  heiul. 


Now  through  her  half-forgotten  care 
A  gladness  murmured  in  her  brejist, 

As  Hayi    »vent-ha,  he  was  there. 
Again  the  maiden  form  she  pressed; 

Or  other  dear  ones  seemed  to  rise, — 
Seen  through  death's  gathering  mist  and  haze ; 

The  loving  sire,  the  deeper  eyes 
That  brightened  on  her  infant  days. 


ir 


w. 


). 


N 


222  THE  LKAUUE   OF  THE  1H0QU0IS. 

And  low  she  eullod  oiicli  clicrished  name, 
As  tliough  slio  sjiw  them  bending  tliere ; 

Yet  o'er  the  sward  no  footstep  came  — 
None  saw  her  passing  grief  and  care; 

Bnt  Midniglit,  listening  on  the  i>liiin, 
Heard  from  the  wi  n,  glooming  nigh, 

A  shriek  —  and  Un  was  still  again  — 
As  if  a  Spirit  shuddered  by. 

Along  the  sea  the  lonely  Mating 
His  troul)led  song  more  lonesome  woke ; 

The  great  Da-hin-da  sol)er  sang, 
As  grief  liad  touched  his  hoarser  croak ; 

Th(!  Ko-ko-ko-ho's  mournful  cry, 
The  Wa-won-ais-se'    sorrow-plaint, 

0-me-me's  tend         oan  and  sigh, — 
Came  from  the  avooo  Uxore  sadly  faint. 

Sad  broke  the  Morning,  dim  and  pale, 
Ti-o-to  murmured  on  the  reef; 

The  Sun,  behind  his  cloudy  veil. 
Looked  —  tearful  with  a  later  grief; 

The  Home-wind  wailed  along  the  shore, 
The  forest  felt  a  shivering  dread  ; 

Nyah-tah-wanta  came  no  more  — 
Nyah-tali-wanta,  she  wiis  dead  ! 


THE  liJiOKl'X  IIKAHT. 


223 


No  loving  lieurt  or  eye  o'erbeiit 
Tliiit  (larkoiied  couch  —  her  shroud  and  tomb, 

Whose  life  with  anguish  overspent 
Wont  out  amid  niglit's  lonely  gloom  ; 

With  none  to  watch  beside  the  dead, 
To  close  the  dear  lids,  staring  vain  ; 

To  make  for  her  a  ''>wly  bed — 
A  grassy  grave  along  the  plain. 

Yet  He,  whose  love  is  over  all, 
Whose  helping  hand  is  ever  nigh. 

Who  hears  the  broodling  s[)arrows  call. 
Nor  lets  their  little  want  go  by, — 

To  beast  and  bird  and  reptile  lent 
Its  meaner  life,  and  not  in  vain. 

Low  by  that  couch  in  pity  bent. 
To  soothe  its  frenzied  pulse  of  pain. 


And  shades  that  roam  the  starry  shore 
Came  o'er  the  midnight's  track  of  gloom. 

Watched  by  that  wigwam's  lowly  door 
To  bear  a  suffering  spirit  home. 

On  airy  ])inions  far  and  fleet 
Above  life's  weaker  part  upborn  ; 

To  taste  the  bliss,  the  I'apture  meet 
Of  Virtue  on  the  Hills  of  Morn. 


224  THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  JIWQUOJS, 

No  more  to  wait  with  tearful  eyes 
Beside  Ti-o-to's  darkened  strand, 

But  joyous  as  the  raorning-rise 
Far-journeying  to  the  Better  Land  ; 

To  Oway-neo's  Home,  away 
Beyond  where  sunset-glory  smiles ; 

Beyond  the  gateways  of  the  day, — 
To  Inigorio's  Happy  Isles. 


-i',>w'':H' 


ffy 


niE  BETTEIl  LAND. 


in 
J. 


The  child  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
From  petty  pain  and  sorrow  free, 

Finds  all  it  dreams  of  peace  and  rest, 
Nor  knows  if  other  Heaven  may  he. 

So  every  Soul,  or  soon  or  late. 
Led  by  the  Father's  loving  hand, 

And  each  as  is  its  need  and  state, 
Will  find  at  length  that  Better  Land. 


XX 

THE    BETTER    LAND. 

O  World  of  Time  !  wert  thou  the  whole, 
Whose  outvvjird  aspect  darkly  shows, 

Nor  lived  beyond  the  chastened  Soul, 
Nor  more  divinely  fair  arose, 

And  more  in  joy  and  beauty  grown 
In  years  that  are  Eternit}', — 

Did  life  no  Life  Immortal  own, 
Were  it  not  better  not  to  be  ? 


No  path  but  is  by  sorrow  crossed. 
No  spot  but  is  bedewed  with  tears  ; 

No  loving  heart  but  it  hath  lost 
Some  treasure,  loss  still  nnn-e  endears. 

To  all,  the  troubled  days  that  pass 
Bring  endless  labcu',  little  gain  ; 

Or  brief  delights  that  leave,  alas  I 
But  keener  sense  of  after-paiu. 

30 


'I 


228  THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IIWQVOIS, 

Oh  !  to  behold  with  clearer  sight 
The  good  that  Providence  designs  ; 

Unseen,  or  only  in  the  light 
That  far  along  the  ages  shines  ; 

To  know  that  nothing  is  of  chance, 
All  evil  for  a  purpose  meant ; 

That  discipline  of  circumstance 
Is  evermore  beneficent. 


Oh  !  for  the  faith  to  realize  — 
The  truth-illumined  mind  to  know 

That  He,  the  only  Good  and  Wise, 
But  portions  each  or  weal  or  woe. 

As  joy  or  grief  may  nurture  more 
The  Flower  that  springs  from  Virtue's  root, 

That  blooms  on  Love's  immortal  shore. 
And  happiness  its  ripened  fruit. 


He,  Oway-neo's  Prophet  true, 
That  hunter-bow  and  shaft  had  wrought ; 

Who  forth  the  Dusky  Nations  drew. 
Them  all  the  good  of  labor  taught ; 

Who  strengthened  all  tho  weaker  hands, 
Who  greatest  in  the  Council  stood. 

Who  gathered  all  the  scattered  bands 
Into  a  noble  Brotherhood  ;  — 


THE  BETTER  LAND. 


229 


Wlio  toiled  and  suffered  here  below 
Through  all  the  years  —  and  not  in  vain  ; 

Whose  heart  had  borne  a  mighty  woe. 
Felt  all  the  pangs  of  mortal  pain  ; 

The  portion  that  has  ever  been 
Of  kingly  souls  whose  feet  have  pressed 

The  heights  of  woe,  to  enter  in 
The  bright  Immortals'  home  and  rest ; — 

Unto  his  kindred,  tribe  and  race, 
To  shores  and  wigwams  looming  large 

Returning,  to  his  home  and  place, — 
Drew  on  the  shore  that  mystic  barge 

By  snowy  tents  that  shimmering  stand 
On  hills  fair  in  the  setting  sun  ; 

Sojourned  he  in  that  Better  Land, 
His  sorrows  passed,  his  labors  done. 


And  oft  when  sundown  falling  red, 
With  ruby  lights  the  llesper-rim, 

While  musing  on  the  loved  and  dead, 
While  brooding  sad  the  thought  of  him 

The  noblest  of  his  noble  Race, 
Above  the  purple  clouds  of  even 

Metliinks  I  see  his  Prophet-face 
Look  smiling  from  that  peaceful  heaven. 


\i 


\  1  ly 


\  ■  iS 

.'  j^ 

■*■ 

lA 

230 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


Nor  his  alone  :  —  wliere  brightly  laves 
The  sea  of  gold  that  fairer  shore, 

I  see  the  Avell-remembered  braves, 
The  mighty  of  the  days  before  ; 

There  in  the  Spirit's  Sliining  Home 
They  dwell,  —  all  the  departed  great ; 

The  wider  Hunting  Grounds  they  roam. 
More  glorious  in  their  after-state. 


There  do  I  see,  with  gleaming  crest. 
In  all  the  lofty  pride  he  bore, 

Great  Ot-o-tar-ho,  he  whose  breast 
Of  living  snakes  the  cordon  w^ore; 

Wliose  bowls  and  spoons  from  which  he  fed- 
His  dishes  all — were  carved  and  wrought 

Out  of  the  skulls  of  warriors  dead. 
The  trophies  from  the  battle  brought/" 


There  all  the  Ot-o-tar-ho  line, 
Seen  on  Tradition's  fading  page  ; 

Names  that,  however  dim  they  shine. 
Make  regal  that  heroic  age, 

VV^hen  boldest  heart  and  strongest  hand 
Alone  might  cope  with  monsters  dread ; 

With  Serpent  fierce  that  roamed  the  laud. 
With  Giant  huge,  or  Flying  Head. 


THE  BETTER  LAS  I). 


231 


There  all  the  mighty  chieftains  ])e 
Of  later  days  that  tlark  unrolled  ; 

AV  hereof  with  tongue  of  I'rophecy 
The  nohle  Hayo-went-ha  told  : 

When  over  all  the  land  should  tread  — 
Sliouhl  throng  a  People  great  and  free  ; 

Thick  as  the  leaves  hy  Autuuni  shed, 
Or  as  the  pebbles  by  the  sea. 


Sa-go-ye-wat-ha,  he  is  there  ; 
The  warrior  chieftain  no])le-born  ; 

Aye  !  noble,  if  they  nol)lc  be 
Who  hold  ign(d)leness  in  scorn  ; 

A\  ho  stood  in  Council  great,  as  the}' 
That  gifted  are  to  lead  and  teach  ; 

A  tiery  Soul  that  nu)st  could  sway 
All  passions  with  the  might  of  speech, 


CO 


\^. 


Who  weakly  owned  no  brotlier's  God,"' 
Nor  less  adjud  Ted  for  wisdom  thence  ; 

Who  firm  the  path  of  duty  trod, 
And  wanting  not  in  reverence  ; 

Unbowed  in  fear-inspiring  awe. 
Confessed  no  less  the  human  need 

Of  love  —  the  first,  the  primal  law  : 
More  sacred  than  the  doubtful  creed. 


m 


:''fi 


282  TffF  LEAGVK   OF  THE  JROQUOIfi. 

And  in  the  ages  dawning  bright 
Shall  truth-illumined  Sages  rise, 

Who,  walking  in  the  widening  light 
With  wiser  mind  find  elearer  eyes, 

With  l)aser  bigot-sight  unvexed. 
Shall,  conning  deep  each  fading  scroll. 

Find  numy  a  love-inspiring  text, — 
The  offspring  of  thy  nobler  soul. 


There  He — nor  bearing  crimson  stain  — 
Who  bade  the  war-ax  dread  atone 

For  all  his  kindred  wanton  slain  ; 
His  Nation's  woes  -.vept  in  his  own. 

I  see  that  form  pathetic  stand  ; 
I  hear  :^ — "  Of  all  my  kindred,  none 

Are  left  alive  in  all  the  land  ! 
For  Logan  who  will  mourn  ?  —  not  one." 


There  He,  Oneida's  noblest  son. 
That  bold  amid  War's  wild  alarms 

The  warrior-hero's  chaplet  won, 
When  rose  the  Western  World  in  arms; 

On  battle-field,  in  Council-hall, 
Alike  created  to  command  ;®'' 

Who  stood  amid  the  sachems  all. 
The  wisest  chieftain  in  the  land. 


Till':   liETTKll   LAS' It. 


233 


Who  l)owoil  in  years,  in  spirit  Ijrave, 
"  I  am  an  a«;('<l  lioniloek,"  said  ; 

"Winds  of  a  linndrod  winters  have 
Fierce  whistled  througli  my  ])ranehes  dead." 

And  |)ilii:rinis  still  their  footsteps  stay  — 
Hend  o'er  his  dust  with  tearful  eyes ; 
"  He  was  the  White  Man's  friend,"  they  say, 
Or  "Here  the  good  Sken-an-do  lies." 


Rise  other  forms  more  comely  dight: 
More  fair  than  in  the  olden  days 

They  that  T  see  —  oh,  dear  delight ! 
In  beauty  that  is  passing  praise, 

Fn  wifely  charm  or  maiden  grace, 
In  snowy  kirtle  rich  arrayed, 

They  light  tht;  Yong-we's  home  and  place, 
Make  glad  the  wigwam's  mat  and  shade. 

And  oft  along  the  glimmering  marge 
Of  wider  shores,  that  faint  and  glow, 

I  see  again  that  mystic  barge  — 
That  mystic  Chee-maun  come  and  go  ; 

More  beauteous  on  the  flowing  tide, 
More  fleet  is  seen  to  glide  and  run. 

Dance  on  the  billows  foaming  wide, 
No  paddle  has  —  no  need  of  one. 


'm 


234 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  THE  IIWQUOIS. 


m 


It  Ilayo-wont-liii  lightly  bears, 
While  hrighteiis  more  his  Prophet-face, 

As  it  the  glow  effulgent  wears 
Of  Oway-neo's  Shining  Place. 

In  beauty  made  more  beautiful 
I  see,  by  sorrow  sanctified, 

In  wifely  charms  surpassing  all  — 
Nyah-tah-wanta  by  his  side. 


And  there  is  she, —  the  little  maid. 
The  darling  he  had  mourned  as  dead, 

In  rarer  maiden  grace  array (mI  ; 
More  glad  her  song,  more  light  her  tread  ; 

In  mind,  as  stature,  heightened  more. 
With  love  the  mother's  love  requites ; 

More  deeply  learned  in  forest-lore. 
She  more  the  father's  heart  delights. 

And  there  they  dwell — 0  joy  complete  ! 
Land  where  no  earthly  shadows  gloam  ; 

There  taste  again  the  raptiu'e  sweet — 
Know  all  the  sacred  joys  of  Home. 

Oh  !  Home  is  where  —  or  near  or  far — 
Our  darlings'  footsteps  light  the  sod  ; 

"\Vherever  they,  the  loved  ones,  are 
In  the  wide  Universe  of  God. 


rni:  hetter  land. 


235 


With  woods  where  endless  Summer  smiles, 
That,  robed  in  Icuf'y  frii«]:riince  stand 

Year  unto  year;  unmeasured  miles 
Of  verdured  plains,  of  l)ill()wy  strand. 

Of  meadows  wide  in  mantle  green  ; 
Hills  that  on  hills  serenely  shine, 

With  Howery  vales  I'ar-stretchtMl  between. 
That  snowy  tents  make  more  divine, — 

Still  looms  and  fades  the  Shining  Land : 
The  mighty  chiefs  vl  noble  fame 

There,  as  of  old,  in  Council  stand  ; 
There,  kindling  with  the  kindling  Hame, 

They  wake  again"  the  lofty  speech  ; 
But  not  to  fire  for  mortal  strife 

The  warrior's  heart ;  —  they,  wiser,  teach 
Of  Him  who  Master  is  of  Life. 


And  they  that  hearken  do  I  see : 
With  faces  like  the  morning  lit. 

Of  braves  a  goodly  company. 
Along  the  sward  they  stand  or  sit ; 

And  there,  more  lovely,  wife  or  maid, 
In  kirtle  new,  they  sit  or  stand, 

In  mantle  wove  of  wampum-braid, 

And  moccasins  quilled  and  beaded  grand. 

31 


r 


:j 


fi 


I 

I! 


230  THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IKOQUOIS. 

Bright  on  tlie  wigwams,  pjiinto«l  fair 
I  see  eacli  to-tem  form  again, 

Of  Heaver,  Tortoise,  Wolf,  and  Hear, 
Of  Falcon,  Plover,  Deer  and  Crane  ; 

With  picture-writing  wondrous  shown  : 
All  birds  and  beasts  —  all  symbols  whence 

The  greatly  wise  may  draw  alone 
The  mystery  of  the  hidden  sense. 

Still  on  the  endless  Seasons  roll : 
All  manly  sports  their  joys  enhance ; 

PJlate  they  play  at  Hat  and  Hall, 
Or  shake  the  Howl,  in  game  of  chance, 

Or  with  the  hunter's  shaft  and  bow 
Still,  as  of  old,  in  passion  new. 

They  track  afar  the  flying  Roe 
To  hills  beyond  the  farthest  blue. 


There  through  the  forest's  leafv  sheen 
Still  gleams  each  ro3'al  antlered  head. 

And  all  the  plain's  unbroken  green 
Far  trembles  to  each  tameless  tread ; 

There  every  bird  beloved  of  old, 
That  clove  the  ai  :        the  sea. 

With  gayur  i  wing  more  bold, 

Still  cli  ?er  •     "r  free. 


THE  liKTTEIi  LAND. 


237 


The  IuikI  unci  homo  of  worthy  braves, 
liy  siiiilin<i[  iiieads  uiid  cryi^tiil  hikes 

Whose  sliores  no  angry  l»ilh)w  hives, 
Where  War's  wild  turmoil  never  wakes  : 

By  tranquil  streams  that  liglitly  sinji, 
The  green  Savannas  murmuring  through  ; 

Where  on  the  scareely  rutHed  spring 
Still  noiseless  speeds  the  light  eanoe. 


Though  grief  still  sways  with  tyrant  might. 
Still  hinds  the  waiting  j'ears  with  i)ain, 

Some  solace  for  each  lost  delight 
To  see  the  loved  ones  smile  again  ; 

To  know  they  dwell  immortal  there, 
Where  bright  the  sunset  glory  smiles ; 

Their  wigwams  built  eternal  are 
In  Inigorio's  Happy  Isles. 

And  musing  on  the  glory  past, 
The  glory  that  the  Ages  wait, 

This  heart,  despite  its  sorrow  vast, 
Again  is  reconciled  with  Fate ; 

Nor  other  thought  such  comfort  ])rings 
As— Ye  that  left  us  are  not  losjc ; 

liut  freely  quaff  life's  deeper  springs 
Mid  Oway-neo's  Shining  Host. 


m 


238 


THE  LEAGUE   OF  THE  IliOQUOIS, 


0  Love  !  that  stays,  though  suns  do  go, 
Abides  —  though  all  things  flee  amain, 

To  more  and  more  dost  wax  and  grow, 
Thou  canst  the  Fore -World  ])uild  again  ; 

Though  sorrow-dim,  tear-wet  anew, 
Hojie-briglitened  shines  the  fading  page 

That  here  I  close.  Once  more  adieu  — 
A  last  adieu,  tliou  Primal  Age. 


MISCELLANEOU 


S, 


Iff 


r; 


IM 


All  Truth  through  mnrtj/rdom  is  born,- 
I'/idt  (lath  (he  (ifter-iKjen  hlesa.  ' 

The  Virtue  that  shall  life  adorn, 
The  Soul  exalt  in  nobleness, 

Ts  to  the  passing  thought  and  time 
A  sin,  when  by  their  standard  tried; 

If  but  for  protest  to  the  eritne 
By  hoary  Custom  sanctijied. 


WINONA. 


Afar,  where  Pepin's  waters  flow 
By  iiitiny  u  l)eetling  turret  steep, 

With  <?limineriiig  turrets  fur  below 
Reflected  in  the  gliininerinj^  deep. 

The  rocky  heights  sud  memories  stir 
Of  one  with  fuitlitul  heart  and  true. 

The  maiden,  dear  Winona,  hrr 
The  straimer  Chieftain  came  to  woo. 


A  warrior  bokl,  of  presence  i)roud, 
Tlie  Chief  of  all  the  Northern  AVood  ; 

To  him  the  braves  in  reverence  ])owed 
Or  reverent  in  his  presence  stood  ; 

His  breast  of  many  a  battle  showed, — 
Wiir  waged  with  nniny  a  swarthy  l)and  ; 

And  presents  rare  he  free  bestowed 
In  barter  for  the  maiden  hand. 


242 


WINONA. 


Ill 


The  dusky  warriors,  brave  and  strong, 
Around  the  camp-fire,  blazing  bright. 

With  feast  and  pipe  and  dance  and  song 
Made  revel  with  a  wild  delight ; 

While  he,  the  stranger  Chieftain  bold, 
Profuse  his  costly  gifts  displaj^ed  ; 

Of  many  a  deed  of  valor  told  — 
So  he  perchance  might  win  the  maid. 

What  fairer  boon  of  Manito 
Might  crown  the  maiden's  heart  of  pride, 

Than  from  her  wigwam  home  to  go 
A  mighty  chieftain's  queen  and  bride  ? 

In  reedy  mantle,  torn  and  mean. 
No  more  in  lowly  want  to  pine, 

liut  of  a  royal  lodge  the  queen, — 
In  bear-skin  kirtle,  beaded  fine. 

But  not  for  him  of  fame  and  might 
She  braided  fair  each  raven  tress  ; 

Oh,  not  for  him  those  eyes  of  night 
Revealed  their  starry  tenderness  ! 

Oh,  not  for  him  the  maiden  heart 
Timed  the  warm  pulse  of  maidenhood 

Within  a  breast  unsoiled  of  art, 
Far-nurtured  in  the  wild  and  wood. 


WINONA. 

In  troubled  tl.onght  .she  ,„i,,ht  not  tell 
JVmona,  where  the  .shadow,  fo,,; 

T"  feu,- th,.t  darker  p,„.p„,,.t„k,, 
When  hope  .  dead,  she  tu,.„ed  o„  hi,u 

l/"-''  r"-'"' «'™ee  ,.  o,.,3- wake. 
J"  e>-e»  tl,at  sorrows  overhriiu. 


243 


Scarce  co„.sc,o.,s  of  t„e  passing  «ee„e 
SI-  took  „.  al,  „„,.  ,„t  „„,.  »    -"« 

fill,  w,tl,  fa,„iii„r  voiee  .nd  „„• 
i  liat  pierced  w  tli  woe  the  „,.„■  i      t 
«-l>okehersi,.e--"l,      "'"' ''""•'• 

Mulcehustetohe    ike,,  '"""■'"""^•' 

to  ,jc,  uke  ,„a,(le„  go„j 

The  hr,de  of  hi„,  of  „oble  line 
And  worthy  of  our  warrior  Wood!" 

Qnick  .-ising  thence  the  stricken  maid 

W  bent  the  haugl^^ehiefhcsid!. 
He,.    eav,ng  ,,e,„t ,-,,  ,j„.,^.  ,,^,^ 

"No,f,,ther,foT-    ..;T™ 
Mvl,      *•  P>'iyilonotlet!_ 

My  heart  ,s  not  for  bin,  ,,„ 

^"''fe>^n'ymai,le„s„„„„e„,.,j_ 
I  cannot  be  a  bride  to^ay  ,         •*    ' 

3a 


244  WINONA. 

"Though  bravest  of  the  braves  is  he, 
And  I  of  Jill  the  niiiidens  least, 

His  bride  and  wife  I  can  not  be. 
So  do  not  bid  the  marriage  feast. 

I  low  will  rest  beside  the  dead, 
Or  lonely  wander,  old  and  gray  ; 

But  never  will  Winona  wed 

Till  love  shall  light  her  wedding-day." 
****** 

Now  flickers  dim  the  camp-fire  light  ; 
The  tawny  braves  that  hideous  made 

With  whoop  and  daiice  the  falling  night. 
Lie  slumbering  in  the  dusky  shade. 

A  deeper  gloom  the  midnight  wears  ;  — 
Till  silence  in  that  fading  glow 

Hangs  like  some  sable  wing  that  bears 
The  presage  of  on-coming  woe. 


From  out  the  forest  dim  and  faint, 
From  olf  the  waters  glooming  nigh. 

Comes  up  the  Wa-won-ais-se's  plaint, 
The  Wa-be-wa-wa's  clang  and  cry  ; 

And  many  a  nightbird  lonely  calls. 
While  sweeter  than  the  morning-rise 

The  dew  of  sleep  that  softly  falls  — 
But  not  on  anguish-burdened  eyes. 


;'7;'''"™'"''"''"e,.u,-o»m„ve.. 
A    .      I„.  ,.a,lia„t  l,„.,ts  of  J,„uve„ 

W-o-1  ..«„.„  „.iH,pif,i„„  eyes  „n„ve,. 
As  co„.se,ou.s  of  tl.y  b,.e„ki„g  l.eart 

W...o„a,  that  so  lone  and  late 

Ami  wil,lly  „.ee,.ing  sitst  apart, 
Sa<l  brooding,  on  the  morrow's  tate. 

0  tender  Sonl!    0  heart  of  grief 
'^f   7"™  "ke  the  startled  fa„„, 

To"ch«l  hy  the  ruder  breath  of  da,v„  , 

"  hat  means  thy  iook  so  all  fbrlon,  ■ 
Ti.y  palhd  eheek  and  tearful  eye  P_ 

Ah.,!  that  thou  must  wed  at  „,orn 
0.  mora  w,lHring  thy  hour  to  die! 

Whore  Ko-ho-ko-ho  to  the  night 
The  hour  of  midnight  sober  eali; 

Where  far  along  the  rocky  height 
The  silver  starlight  softly  fa|,.,,_,' 

io 'sorrowing  maiden  forn,  appear.  • 
An.none  the  roeky  steeps  ah,n,/' 

No«v  troubled  wakes  her  saddened  song 


-'■(o 


11 


246 


SONCl  OF  WINONA. 


''Hush  thy  inocining,  Es-cou-aw-baw, — 

Hear  ni}'  cry; 
Hark  tlu'  i)hiiiit  of  h)rn  Wiii-o-na, — 

Hhc  must  (lie  ! 
Gitclie  Manito,  pity  nie  !  i)ity  lue  . — 

Lin<j:er  nigh ; 
Bear  the  shade  of  h)st  Winona 

To  the  sky  ! 

''Wa-bun  An-nung,  Wa-bun  An-nung, 

Hasten,  come  ! 
Dwelling  where  the  shining  Spirits 

Happy  roam  ;  — 
Bring,  oh  !  bring  th}-^  charmed  (Jhee-maun 

O'er  the  foam ; 
Bear  Winona's  bruised  and  bleeding 

Spirit  home. 


"  Se-bow-ish-a,  Se-bow-ish-a, 

Sobbing  by ; 
Hoarse  Da-hin-da,  cease  thy  croaking — 

Doleful  cry ; 
Wa-won-ais-se,  Wa-won-ais-se, 

Plainting  nigh, 
Hearken  to  Winona's  moaning, — 

She  must  die ! 


SONG  OF  WINONA. 


247 


"Oft  when  Segwim  fair  shall  brighten 

All  the  plain, 
By  the  wigwam  shall  the  Shaw-shaw 

Build  again  ; 
Dear  O-me-me  sing  her  lonesome 

Sad  refrain ;  — 
But  her  song  will  lost  Winona 

Call  in  vain. 


''Oft  shall  Minne-wa-wa  linger 

In  the  trees ; 
Oft  shall  Show-on-dai-se  whisper 

To  the  breeze ; 
Loud  the  Wa-wa  clang  his  honking 

On  the  seas  ; — 
But  no  more  shall  wake  Winona's 

Song  with  these. 


"  Soan-ge-ta-ha,  my  beloved  ! 

Evermore 
On  the  beautiful  Hereafter's 

Fairer  shore, 
Soan-ge-ta-ha's  dear  Winona, 

Gone  before,    • 
Still  will  ])e  his  Ne-ne-moosh-a,- 
Weep  no  more ! 


m^"^ 


248 


SONO  OF  n'lXOX.i. 


II 


ii 


"  0  Gush-ke-\vjiu  I  0  Uie  darkness  ! 

Part  the  slooni  ! 
Unk-ta-lie,  low  make  Winona's 

Hillowy  tomb  I 
Ne-l)a-naw-l)aigs  take  Winona's 

Spirit  home  ! 
Gitche  Man  i  to,  pity  nie  !  pity  me  ! 

Lo  I  I  come  !"" 


A  shriek  !  —  was  that  the  scream  of  bird  ? 
Was  it  Key-oshk"s  —  the  wing  I  saw  ? 

The  Ne-ba-naw-baigs,  waking-  heard 
The  cry,  and  answered, — '' Win-o-na  !'' 

A  shriek  that  startk'd  all  the  plain, 
And  mournful  as  a  dying  swan  ; 

A  shriek — a  jdash  ;  —  and  Night  again 
Sat  weeping  o'er  a  glory  gone. 

And  still  along  the  rocky  walls, 
The  listening  night-wind  hushed  in  awe, 
The  Ko-ko-ko-ho  niglitly  calls  : 
"Lost  Win-o-ua  !  lost  Win-o-na  !" 
And  far  the  answering  caves  along. 
The  Loon  from  many  a  lone  bayou, 

Shrieks  sorrowing  in  her  midnight  song  : 
"Wiu-o-na— 0!     Win-o-na— 0  ! !" 


H'L\ONA. 


249 


How  beauteous  shone  thy  maiden  fame, 
How  beauteous  where  thy  footsteps  stood, 

When,  sorrowhig  in  thy  maiden  bhuue, 
Thou  trembledst  oVr  the  threatening  flood  ! 

What  yearnings  vain  thy  heart  possessed 
When  k)ve's  sweet  morning-dream  decayed ; 

No  darlings  for  the  woman's  breast, 
No  loveliglit  for  the  lonely  maid  I 


And  oh,  what  anguish  over  all  — 
What  grief  the  aching  bretist  enfolds. 

When  one  so  loved  and  beautiful 
Goes  sorrowing  to  the  Land  of  Souls  ! 

But  yet  methinks  I  hear  the  cry 
From  many  and  numy  a  breaking  heart : 
"Alas!  alas!  —  oh,  would  that  I 
Had  chose  the  Indian  Maiden's  part!" 


if 


n 


1 

i 

THE  GREAT  SNAKE 


— ^OF — 


CANANDAIGUA  LAKE. 


;!3 


A  patiial  sif/hf,  a  mirrow  view 
Has  he,  —  an  eye  to  error  prone, 

Who  only  sees  the  story  trite 
That  tells  of  outward  truth  alone. 

The  fahled  fireside  stories  old. 
The  lore  in  childhood's  irondcr  shrined, 

Do  nobler,  deeper  lessons  hold 
Of  Wisdom  for  the  wiser  mind. 


i\ 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SENECA  NATION. 


Fair  in  a  goodly  laud,  ])osido 
The  springs  of  Canandaigua,  still 

Yo-non-to  looms  along  the  tide, 
The  lofty  Nun-dow-aga  Hill ; 

That  wide  renowned  in  daj's  of  yore, 
Still  frequent  breath  of  wonder  stirs ; 

Whose  earthy,  fecund  bosom  bore 
A  nation's  great  progenitors. 


^i 


What  time  from  out  liis  shining  home 
Tha  mighty  Owa3'-u('()  came, 

He  to  the  rocky  summit  clomb, 
And  all  the  air  was  wrapped  in  flame  ; 

Brigh!  seeming  girt  with  fiery  zone, 
Though  lobed  in  mortal  garb:  nor  less 

His  lofty  brow  with  luster  shone 
(»f  love's  diviner  tenderness. 


m 


\tr 


u 


1 

i 

1' 

m 

!■ 

■1 

,.i 

■  J 

- 

i 

!  i 

1 

.•5; 

i 

! 

264         r//f;  ore  at  snake  of  canandaigua. 

While  she,  the  wood-emmantled  Hill, 
Blushed  red  through  all  her  summer  face, 

As,  chained  in  passion's  thrall  and  thrill. 
She  yielded  to  his  rapt  embrace  ; 

O'er  all  the  plain  a  cloudy  fold 
A  glory  made  as  if  to  hide 

With  flaming  sunset's  fire  and  gold 
The  bliss  of  more  than  mortal  Ijride. 


All  unaware  of  maiden  blame, 
What  time  the  Seasons  onward  drew. 

Her  life  of  other  life  became 
A  part ;  —  or  so  in  seeming  grew  ; 

A  marvel  more,  so  new  to  her 
The  miracle  of  life  to  prove ; 

To  feel  the  quickening  pulse  and  stir 
That  wakes  the  fond  maternal  love. 


Still  more  a  wonder  day  by  day, 
Until  —  the  da3's  to  fullness  grown  — 

The  quarried  steep  in  travail  lay. 
In  mighty  child-birth  wail  and  moan. 

By  eartliquake-pain  parturient  urged, 
The  parted  cliff  made  willing  way  ; 

And  lo  !  a  people  thence  emerged — 
The  great  and  noble  Seueca. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SENECA  NATION. 


255 


And  he,  whose  phice  is  high  above, 
Them  lent  his  fostering  love  and  care  ; 

Nor  knew  they  idle  wish  to  rove 
From  land  so  passing  good  and  fair ; 

And  where  the  plain  in  beauty  showed, 
Sloped  greening  to  the  rippled  wave. 

Content  the  infant  tribe  abode. 
Each  tawny  maid  and  dusky  brave. 

The  manly  arms  so  brown  ard  bare 
From  far  the  poles  of  cedar  brought ; 

And  many  a  flaggy  mat  and  fair 
The  damsels'  ligliter  lingers  wrought ; 

Still  to  the  brake  and  to  the  wood 
The  willing  footsteps  came  and  went. 

Till  new,  in  home-like  comfort,  stood 
The  lowly  Indian's  barky  tent. 


And  in  the  years  that  onward  drew 
He  marked  the  Seasons  come  and  go ; 

Taught  of  each  varied  need,  he  knew 
To  shape  the  arrow,  string  the  bow, 

Swift-speed  the  pointed  shaft,  to  slay 
Skan-o-do,  to  unerring  pierce 

The  Mosa  on  the  hills  away, 
The  shaggy  Yek-wai,  prowling  fierce. 


i 


IT. 


m 


■ 


256  THE   GREAT  SNAKE   OF  CAXANDAIGVA. 

While  she  who  hore  life's  equal  part, 
Who  in  tlie  wigwam  toiling  sat, 

With  hand  more  doit  in  hou.^nhold  art, 
Wove  fair  the  waiting  couch  and  mat ; 

With  charms  than  maiden  charms  more  rare, 
Full-ripened  unto  matron  grace, 

With  gentle,  frugal  house-wife  care 
Made  bright  the  Yong-we's  home  and  place. 

And  waxing  strong,  and  more  and  more, 
The  hunters  roamed  the  farthest  wood  ; 

While  thick  along  the  grassy  shore 
The  new  built  wigwams  smiling  stood  ; 

Where  oft  at  twilight's  dewy  fall, 
Afar  tlie  tranquil  seas  along 

Woke  childliood's  gleesome  shout  and  call. 
Or  dusky  forest-maiden's  song. 


With  skillful  l)ow,  with  valiant  arm. 
The  bravest  of  the  Hunter  Race, 

They  went  and  came,  secure  from  harm, 
With  eager  feet  pursued  the  chase  ; 

No  fear  of  foe  their  bosoms  felt, 
No  dread  forebode  of  coming  ill ; 

For  blest  with  peace  and  plenty  dwelt 
Content  — The  People  of  the  Hill. 


II 


THE  GREAT  SNAKE. 

How  oft,  alas  !  is  sorrow  wrought 
When  but  of  joy  we  careless  dream  ; 

How  oft  the  fairest  path  is  fraught 
With  danger  that  we  little  deem. 

How  oft  the  flower  we  nurture  best 
But  hides  the  wasp  with  fatal  sting  ; 

Or  fondling  cherished  in  the  breast, 
But  proves  at  last  a  cursed  thing. 

What  time,  when  passed  the  winter  glooms, 
The  Wild-goose  clanged  his  song  amain, 

What  time  the  tender-burgeoned  blooms 
Of  spring-time  brightened  all  the  plain ;  — 

When  bearing  proud  their  lesser  bow 
Beyond  the  Nun-dow-aga  Hill, 

With  enger  feet  that  come  and  go, 
Elate  their  little  game  to  kill, — 


258  THE   a  HEAT  SNAKE  OF  CAXANDAIGUA. 

The  youthful  mimic  hunters  caught 
The  nursling  of  a  viper  brood  ; 

And  home  the  tiny  serpent  brought — 
A  reptile  beautiful  and  good. 


The  pretty  snake,  though  unrestrained, 
No  more  unto  the  wild  it  drew  ; 

But  in  the  wigwam  glad  remained, 
And,  fondly  cherished,  greatly  grew — . 


Beloved  of  all,  the  old  and  young, 
The  little  hands  the  creature  fed, 

To  see  it  draw  its  forked  tongue 
And  high  erect  its  shining  head. 


Delighted  still  to  see  it  grow 
Its  ever-growing  want  supplied. 

Until  in  vain  their  shaft  and  bow 
The  weaker  hands  industrious  plied. 

Then  portion  of  their  larger  game 
It  day  by  day  the  hunters  gave  ; 

Till  o'er  the  wild  it  went  and  came. 
Or  fearless  tracked  the  foaming  wave. 


THE  GREAT  SNAKE. 


259 


Now  ro.araing  wide  ;  —  more  fleet  and  free  ; 
Nor  longer  Leiiutil'ul  and  good  ; 

But  growing,  grew  accursed,  to  be 
A  dragon  of  the  field  and  flood. 


So  great  and  strong,  it  fleetly  sped 
Like  wingr'd  thing  from  shore  to  shore  ; 

Becoming  more  a  beast  of  dread  — 
A  prowling  monster,  thriving  more. 

And  still  the  scaly  reptile  grew, 
Till  it  to  see  forel^oded  ill; 

Till  such  enormous  length  it  drew, 
It  quite  encircled  all  the  hill. 


And  slill  it  grew,  and  grew,  till  vain 
It  battened  for  its  daily  food 

On  iVIosa  from  the  farthest  plain, 
Skan-o-do  from  the  farthest  wood. 


iiii 


And  grew,  and  grew,  and  grew,  until 
His  food,  but  not  his  liunger  failed  ; 

As  reaching  far  from  hill  to  hill. 
He  splashed  the  rivers  with  his  tail. 


w 


m 


260 


77/ A'   GREAT  SNAKE   OF  CASASDAIGUA. 


Or  hissing  like  a  roaring  blast, 
With  eyes  like  demon,  fiorcc  and  red. 

Swift  as  the  wind  went  writhing  past, 
The  hapless  Indian's  scourge  and  dread. 


When  in  the  vale  he  horrid  sang 
The  frightened  beasts  witli  bowlings  fled  ; 

The  woods,  the  while  his  rattles  rang. 
Stood  shivering  with  a  scaly  dread. 

When  leaping  from  the  rocky  steeps 
He  floundered  in  the  frightened  waves. 

The  fishes  in  the  startled  deeps 
Went  shuddering  to  the  rocky  caves. 


With  jaws  distent  and  liigh  in  air, 
With  fiery  tongue,  that  went  and  came, 

A  roaming  horror  everywhere  — 
Destroyer  of  the  Indian's  game. 


/ir 


THE    BATTLE. 

Al  v«M..„,  the  K,„p|„  „f  ,1,^. 
^-   out!.,,,  ,..,„„  ,„.„,„,_.^,_. 

"«'>  U'cisUheir  Jiaiiclhud  fed. 


And  std     he  danger  ].i,].,ened  nun.  • 

^^--ear  the  monstrous  thin,  they  sj. 
^-efVightfU  woke  his  his;.       ' 


Moi 


^vicked  chished  Jiis  Ji 


ind 


""gry  ja\v, 


rcjar, 


And  still  ,„o,.e  ,vrotJ.  the  reptile  .rew 

^^.noa.t,,e  growing  a.ar„pUr' 
^■11- dark  ,„  doubt  «hut  they  nn.htj„ 
li.ewur„„r-bravesaCouaeilealIed  • 


Some  weakly  urged  to  spare  the  beast 
I\™.gered  :„ore,  n.ight  tla™  e„„..^.   '' 


And  oil,  ,vhat  sl,,„le 


111  consuiiK 


If  hu 


"«!  iu  such  a«lul  tomb 


niiglit  peaceful  rest 


I 


262  THE  (lliEAT  SNAKE  OF  CAXANDAIGVA. 


Replied  the  braves  :  "If  all  uiislaiii, 
Yet  death  were  certain  all  the  same  ; 

For  from  the  wood  and  from  the  plain 
Were  soon  devoured  the  hunter's  game. 


"And  if  with  famine  fierce  subdued, 
More  sore  were  their  destruction  then  ; 

And  coward  life  is  never  good, 
But  always  good  to  die  like  men." 


The  while  the  bolder  chieftains  spoke. 
With  valor  shone  each  kindling  eye  ; 

Till  forth  the  cr}'  of  vengeance  ])roke  : 
"  The  Snake  must  die  !  the  Snake  must  die  ! ! " 


The  warriors'  trusty  weapons  laid 
In  secret  place,  from  thence  were  drawn  ; 

A  lid  spear  and  shaft  were  sharper  made 
For  fiercest  conflict  at  the  dawn. 


While  in  the  wigwams,  glooming  nigh. 
Throbbed  many  a  woman's  troubled  breast ; 

That  watched  the  dawn  with  tearful  eye— 
More  close  her  little  ones  she  pressed. 


THE  BATTLE. 


26H 


Dim  rose  the  Hill,  in  darknoss  walled, 
Th(!  i)iiies  their  midnight  shadows  cast ; 

But  dreader  sight  their  hearts  appalled 
When  tardy  morning  broke  at  last. 

And  oh  !  how  fear  to  terror  grew 
As  farthest  wigwam  closing  round, 

The  huge  and  wide-mouthed  reptile  drew 
His  scaly  length  along  the  ground. 


Encircling  all  the  town — his  size 
Enormous  —  barring  iill  the  way, 

With  clanging  jaws  and  glaring  eyes, 
The  frightful  reptile  horrid  lay. 


Then  bravely  forth,  with  shaft  and  bow, 
The  warriors  swift  to  battle  flew ; 

With  vigorous  arm,  expert  to  throw 
The  pointed  missile,  strong  and  true. 


And  woman  there  forgot  her  fear. 
And  dauntless  bore,  like  noble  brave, 

The  warrior-bow  and  shaft  and  spear, 
And  many  a  thrust  the  monster  gave. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


a 


'<-%^  ^^s 


Va 


1.0 


I.I 


|50 


IM  illM 


IIIIM 
.1'  IM 


M 

!.8 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

.« 6"     

► 

% 


/. 


c*. 


^c 


/^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)872-4503 


w  is. 


4i 


:lrl 


'■i  t 


-M- 


264  THE  GREAT  SNAKE  OF  CAXAXDAIGUA. 


If  valor  fired  each  manly  arm, 
Love  more  her  hand  its  vigor  lent, 

To  shield  her  little  ones  from  harm — 
Her  darlings  in  the  waiting  tent. 


But  for  each  murderous  missile  thrown 
The  more  the  brute  their  wrath  defied ; 

Till  broke  their  spears,  their  arrows  gone, 
And  none  had  pierced  his  scaly  hide. 

Till  sore  in  every  purpose  foiled, 
They,  weak  and  wounded,  sick  and  spent, 

Loth  from  the  fearful  strife  recoiled— 
Sought  refuge  in  the  inner  tent. 


And  resting  there  their  weary  feet, 
Their  grief  they  bore  with  patient  heart ; 

Ate  sparing  of  their  little  meat, 
Until  the  monster  might  depart. 


And  so  they  tarried  many  a  day, 
Till  on  them  frowned  a  darker  fate  ; 

For  still  the  awful  reptile  lay. 
His  jaws  wide-yawning  at  the  gate. 


THE  BATTLE. 


265 


And  forth  again  the  warriors  bore 
Their  shivered  spears,  with  brave  intent, 

To  fight  the  fearful  battle  o'er. 
For  hunger  fierce  new  courage  lent. 


But  all  in  vain  each  valiant  hand 
Assailed  the  brute  v.  ith  thrust  and  throw  ; 

And  never  braver  warrior-band 
Did  battle  give  more  desperate  foe. 


Some  frantic  i.ade  vdth  fear  and  pain, 
Rushed  mad  to  pile  the  savage  feast ; 

Though  swift  devoured,  such  pittance  vain 
But  hungered  more  the  insatiate  beiist. 


And  some  in  terror  thought  to  flee 
The  dragon's  flinty  side  to  climb  ; 

But  swaying  like  an  angry  sea, 
He  crushed  them  in  the  ooze  and  slime. 


Still  shrieking  ran  the  maniac  din. 
Still  clashed  his  frightful  jaw  uinain, 

Till  last  of  all  those  noble  men 
Had  the  devouring  monster  slaiD. 


IV 


THE    VICTORY. 


How  frequent,  in  the  battle  tried, 
Alone  the  weaker  hands  prevail ; 

While  freely  flows  the  crimson  tide 
From  bosoms  clad  in  iron  mail. 


Still  rests  with  Oway-neo  great 
The  victory  in  the  fiercest  strife  ; 

They  triumph  at  the  last  who  wait 
On  Him  who  Master  is  of  Life. 


,  Jl 


Low-fallen  lay  each  noble  brave, 
The  wigwams  empty  pressed  the  plain  ; 

Save  one  alone  that  shelter  gave 
To  Yong-we  with  her  children  twain  : 


Who,  spared  her  kinsmens'  sadder  fate 
Still  lingered  in  that  frightful  place  ; 

Lone  with  her  little  ones  she  sat :  — 
Sad  remnant  of  a  noble  Race. 


THE  r/cToiiy. 


Ami  forth  „td„*.,l,„.,„ft,^ 
Made  drunken  with  his  feast  „f  ,,l,  Jd     ' 


267 


As  fleet  as  flees  the  st-irH<.  1  l 
^Ji«  to  the  leafy  covert  fl,Hl  • 

Her  weary  feet  she  rested  there 
^«>--lmg  still  her  kindred  dead    ' 


I-o  ion  the  dark,  with  slowia.  haft 
Anpwsh™e..withw.„dro„:sk;„' 

Vn-;«.;'^'^'''f^ '-''•■•'•«  tl,e  shaft 
«>"«>  that  monster  she  might  kill. 


Straightway  with  patient  hand  she  wrought 

^'"7'7=-«tthepe.,.ofday  °' 

She  forth  that  venomed  ,.    ri 
11         .,  """-'' ii'ptile  soucrlit 

Alone  the  wanton  hrnte  to  slay.         °    ' 


3S 


268 


THE  GREAT  SNAKE  OF  CANAXDAIGUA. 


MU: 


Strong  in  her  heaven-instructed  art, 
She  near  approaclied  the  dreadful  beast ; 

Deep  ])iereed  the  sleeping  monster's  heart, 
Gorged  frightful  with  his  horrid  feast. 


Mad  writhing  in  his  mortal  pain, 
With  many  u  dying  roar  and  wail, 

That  dragon  awful  lashed  the  plain 
And  farthest  hill-side  with  his  tail. 


'i> 


More  fierce  than  tempest-tiding  storm, 
The  lofty  pine,  the  mighty  oak. 

That  demon-like  contracted  form 
Like  fragile  reeds  to  splinters  broke. 


Ill:]' 

i 


H-rf-1'^ 


The  beasts  that,  howling,  tied  the  plain 
Felt  all  the  earth  with  terror  quake 

As,  rolling  down  the  slope  amain, 
He  plunged  into  the  foaming  lake. 


He  there  his  human  victims  vain 
Disgorged  along  the  crimson  shore  ; 

Then  with  one  throe  of  dying  pain 
Sank  slowly, —  and  was  seen  no  more. 


THE   VJCTOliy. 

Aud  she  whose  hand  the  arrow  sped- 
It  nobe  deeds  nnv  „i  j  ^  ' 

ueeus  may  gladness  win  — 
Kejoiced  to  see  the  monster  dead 

Destroyer  ofher  tribe  and  kin.        ' 

beyond  the  sorrow-darkened  land, 
Her  children  with  a  loving  hand. 

Built  them  a  wigwam  by  the  mere 
By  Canadesoga's  tranquil  wave;        ' 

W>th  them  abode  unvexed  of  fear 
And  reared  them  to  be  wi.e  and  brlve. 

.f  •"■'"'?'"  ""^"^P^g  in  after  days 

And  worthy  of  their  race  and  name, 
The  brave  and  noble  Senecas,  _ 

J'he  mightiest  warriors  known  to  fame. 

Yet  if  there  was  a  snake  at  all 
Ooiiie  fain  would  question  . 
WonM.        "'"^""on;— .some  at  least 
Would  count  my  story  mythical 

Of  her  that  slew  the  dreadful  beast. 


269 


270 


IIIK  a  UK  AT  SNAKK  OF  CANANDAIGVA. 


But  many  a  hill-side  gully  shows, 
In  many  a  forest  still  abides 

Some  token  of  the  awful  throes 
Wherewith  the  frightful  monster  died. 


;f !  ' 


i 


'm\ 


ml  i  ■' 


i;!- 


■  ■; 


11 


And  still  the  curious  eye  may  see 
Where  Canandaigua's  billows  moan, 

Out-spewed  in  death's  lust  agony, 
The  victim's  skulls  transformed  to  stone. 


Nor  valor  less  her  bosom  bore, 
But  more  her  greatness  stands  confessed 

If  chance  it  were  no  serpent,  more 
Than  lives  to-day  in  every  breast. 


THE    SHINtNG    MANITO. 


Great  iNIunabo-zlio  sailing  lone 

Remotest  tide, 
As  drawing  nigh  to  shores  unknown, 
Bright  on  the  hills  afar  he  spied, 

And  strange  and  new, 
Lodge  of  the  Shining  Manito. 


With  warrior  pride,  he  all  night  long 

And  unafraid. 
Shaped  spear  and  bow  and  arrow  strong. 
And  Ijrought  his  weapons  ready  made 
At  dawning  light. 
And  stripped  and  armed  him  for  the  fight. 


i(  a 


Then  he  the  conflict  dread  began  : 

The  war-whoop  gave ; 
Surround  him  !"  yelled,  as  ou  he  ran, — 
"  Run  up  !  run  up  ! !''  as  with  him,  brave, 

Were  there  and  then 
Three  times  a  hundred  armed  men. 


272 


THE  SHINISa  MANITO. 


Fierce  did  all  day  that  battle  wage, — 

More  furious  grew ; 
Wide  o'er  the  land  did  storm  and  rage : 
Nor  wound  had  he — that  Manito, 

So  all  complete 
In  wampum  clad  from  head  to  feet. 

Thick  fell  the  blows  —  the  arrows  sped  : 

"0  it  was  you  I" 
Cried  Manabo-zho — "You  !"  he  said, 
"  My  kindred,  my  Ne-rae-sho  slew  ! " 

Till  left  had  he 
Of  all  his  arrows  only  three. 


i 


1  '  ;,' 


N- 


■PP' 


Just  then  a  gentle  voice  he  heard— 
Past  Ma-ma  flew ; 
"0  Manabo-zho  !"  spake  the  bird. 
As  he  another  arrow  drew, 
"  Of  wampum  bare 
His  crown  ;  —  shoot  at  that  tuft  of  hair." 

As  he  let  fly  straight  at  that  spot, 

Lo  !  blood  he  saw ; 
He  then  his  second  arrow  got, — 

This  brought  him  low  ;  a  third  did  draw 

Full  on  his  head, 
And  down  that  Manito  fell  dead. 


THE  SHINING  MANITO. 

Then,  uttering  his  Saw.sau;-^,an, 

His  scalp  he  drew  ; 
He  took  the  blood,  as  wide  it  ran 

And  iWshead-tho  friend' so  true- 
As  seen  to-day, 

All  gory  red,  he  painted  gay. 


273 


w 


t; 


THE  FLOOD. 


!^ 


Among  the  mighty  deeds,  still  told 
In  legends  dim, 

Of  IVIanuho-zho  strong  uiid  bold, 
None  is,  of  all  the  tales  of  him 
From  days  of  old. 
More  strange  or  true, 

Than  how  he  built  the  world  anew. 


As  journeying  far  by  many  a  reach 
Of  billowy  strand, 

He  saw,  stretched  on  the  sandy  beach. 
And  guarded  by  a  faithful  band 
Wound  each  with  each 
And  dazzling  bright. 

The  Prince  of  Seri)ents,  snowy  white. 


So  late  from  battle  won,  he  knew 

No  fear  of  foe  ; 
With  all  his  strength  his  bow  he  drew. 
Full  on  his  heart  the  shaft,  let  go, 


TllK   FLOOD, 

I^^-n. swift  ami  true; 
Then  shoutino:  .iroml 

Then  hornMcncl  the  Serpont.s^'^See» 
Our  Prince  is  shiin  ! 

OMaiiaho-zho!-iti.sfren_ 

Bu^' we  will  catch  him  r'".sun.ain 
»y  land  mill  sea 

They,  hissing,  r„u 
In  chase  of  hi,„-that  Mighty  Man- 

Them  Ma„abo-.h„  heard  the  while 
As  on  he  sped 

Oerhilland  vale— p.,pl.o^ 
TT       ,  ^'^^'1  step  a  m  le '— 

"-"  J^e  h,.hi„.Hhe  Jthi,jL, 
^^  creatures  vile  ; 
And  ^ve[\  he  knew 
in  each  an  Evil  Manito. 

He  mountain  climbed-the  highest  tree- 
AJie  topmost  height- 

0-aIlthe,a„d,a„„„d,L;, 

I>.'In.s    and  s.ash;-Oh.fe„,,„  sight, 
Up  to  his  knee  * 

Tiie  waters  drew 
S«IIhighe,.-hi«he,- round  h„„g.e.. 


275 


iT!' 


276 


THE  FLOOD. 


A  cry  great  Manabo-zho  gave  : 

"Grandfather  wise 
Do  stretch  yourself — Ne-mo-sho  brave  !"*^ 
And  quick  that  tree  did  taller  rise  — 
Out  of  the  wave 
Him  upward  bore  ; 
But  still  the  waters  heightened  more. 


I;   j 
f  '   1  ' 


\    ■ 


iiii 


M 


Thrice  did  he  call ;  thrice  from  the  tide 

That  tree  did  grow ; 
Still  higher  rose  the  billows  wide  ; 
"  Alas  !  I  can  no  higher  go," 

The  tree  replied ; 

While  yet  he  prayed, 
Just  at  his  chin  the  waters  stayed. 

Near  on  the  waste  a  Loon  did  pass  : 

"0  Brother  true ! 
Down  —  get  of  earth  a  little  mass," 
He  said,  "to  build  the  World  anew :" 

That  bird,  alas  ! 

Though  diver  bold, 
Thence  rose  a  lifeless  form  and  cold. 

Then  to  the  Musk-Rat,  swimming  nigh : 

"0  Brother !  bring 
A  little  earth  ;  down — down  and  try  ; 


THE  FLOOD. 

E-I^^-ass3^  tarn  and  .eea,  spring, 
As  daj-.s  goiie  by 

Your  home  sJiall  be 
Or  on  the  land,  or  on  the  sea;' 


277 


A  lifeless  tiling ; 
Bujin  his  nostrils  b.eathi,„,  „„„, 
He,  Ma„abo-.h„,  ni„.  did  bring 
i'lu  precious  boon 

<^"' life  ;-iuid  then 
Silid  lie — "Jh- i^rnH 

••  '*™"'er,  try  ag„in." 


Next  time  a  little  soil  he  dre,v 

Lp  from  the  seas; 
This  Manabo-zho  added  to 

Thedro,vne,Uoon;amlb„i,f„f,, 

'J').o  World  anew,       "  "^  *'"'^« 
As  you  can  see — 

»■'!•  every  beast  and  bird  and  tree. 


WW 


j3   -J  ' 


i 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  RED  WILLOW. 

Once  on  a  time  a-liimting  went 
Great  Manabo-zho :  with  his  bow 
He  traveled  on  through  wind  and  snow  ; 

At  length,  just  as  the  day  was  spent, 
High  perched  upon  a  withered  tree, 
Afar  he  spied  a  Kee-wau-nee  ; 


l'  it 


He  fixed  an  arrow,  creeping  nigher, 
He  shot  it,  and  the  bird  did  liring 
Into  the  woods,  where  was  a  spring  ; 

He  plucked  the  feathers,  built  a  fire. 
And  by  the  flame,  to  cook  it  quick, 
He  stuck  it  on  a  forked  stick. 


And  then  he  said,  "I  think  that  I 
Will  take  a  nap."  ''  Here  legs,"  said  he. 
You  roast  the  bird  —  the  Kee-wau-nee  ; 

See  it  don't  burn  ;  let  none  come  nigh 
To  touch  it ;  and  be  sure  you  keep 
A-watch  :"  — and  then  he  went  to  sleep. 


!'""  "^'"•'  ''"t  -aril,    l„a  crept 

My  Brothers,  walking  through  tl, 
You  must,"  ],e  «•,;,!   ".  *-      '"^  ™""'- 

Be  tired  ?         '« come  so  fi.r, 

"red-as  indeed  you  are." 

"s,"— said  the  loo-s  — "  w 

Beyond  the  rising  .J.  ;<,4^r '"'•""'"* 
Brought  Manabo-.,,„  .„  t,,„\;,,  „ 

-He  sleeps,  you  ^atc],  "  th,.  \v  u-       ,- 
He  has  a  coat  ofsHnst;:tr  ""'•'*'■' 
^^  hale  you,  n,y  Brothers,  you  ;«  bare." 

«^ven.et;::;i;r::T"i.""r 

Will     •  '    ^^^  «'"(^ 

I'cametolifeandiie,va4'.- 

The  legs,  cajoled  by  fl,(te„. 
^'(I  give  coasent  •  •,«  tl,  ' 

«?;--og'beie:;;;:r,:r'"^- 

T1K  ^  X  '  ^  ^^  declare 

That  truly  they  had  found  them  the,.. 


27J) 


280 


OlilGIN  OF  THE  liED    WILLOW. 


M 


But  Manabo-zho  sleeping  yet, 
They  brought,  and  on  the  leggins  tried ; 
Their  color,  warmth,  elate  with  i)rid(% 

Admiring, —  all  their  shape  and  fit ; 
When  Manal)o-zho  woke  ;  said  he  — 
"Where  is  the  bird, —  the  Kee-wau-nee  ?" 

"It  came  to  life  and  flew  away," 
They  said  ;  — "The  Master  of  Life,  He  blew 
Upon  the  fowl,  and  ofl:'  it  flew. 
"And  whence  these  leggins  ?"  Ah  !  said  they 
"We  found  them  in  the  woods  ;  we  did 
Indeed, —  there  by  some  hunter  hid." 

Them  Manabo-zho  taking,  he 
Did  smell  them  ;  then  more  wroth  he  grew  ; 
"I  see,  what  I  had  thought  was  true," 

He  said  —  "who  stole  the  Kee-wau-nee: 
I  see,  as  I  had  cause  to  fear. 
The  Wolf,  my  cousin,  has  been  here." 

As  him  his  legs  did  homeward  bear. 
He  cut  a  switch  ;  at  every  stride 
He  switched  them,  till  all  gory-dyed  ; 

The  willows,  that  so  yellow  were 
Before,  became,  —  as  you  can  see, — 
As  red  with  blood  as  red  can  be. 


iJ 


THE    BEAR-WIFE. 


In  days  of  old 

There  lived  an  Indian  hunter  bold  ; 
In  childhood  skilled 

In  hunting,  he  a  Bear  had  killed  ; 

To  more  extol  and  record  fair 

A  deed  so  famed, 

His  people  hence  him  Yek-wai  named- 
Named  him  the  Bear. 


When  manhood  came 
He  hunted  Bears,  his  chosen  game  ; 

And  many  a  beast 
Slain  by  his  hand,  had  piled  the  feast ; 
Until  no  more  that  shaggy  brute 

Did  near  abound ; 
By  hunters  brave  alone  was  found 

In  wilds  remote. 


282 


THE  liEAIi-WIFE. 


ll 


1    ; 


\'\ 


m 


Ml: 

H\ 

{  \ 

■  t  ■■ 

m 

m.. 


Once  far  away, 
When  hunting  vain,  at  close  of  day, 

His  path  beside 
A  stranger  wigwam  ghid  he  spied  ; 
And  coming  there,  he  raised  the  mat : 

The  inmates  all, 
Lo  !  they  were  liears,  both  great  and  small, 

That  smoking  sat. 


A  seat  he  sought, — 
He  silent  smoked  the  pipe  they  brought. 

Tiioy  offered  meat; 
He  took,  'uid  silently  did  eat ; 

And  when  refreshed  Avith  food  and  rest, 

An  old  gray  Bear, 
The  Chief,  with  friendly  speech  and  fair. 

Thus  him  addressed :  — 


"  My  son,"  said  he, 
"  Among  us  1  am  glad  to  see 

One  known  of  old. 
Though  only  as  a  hunter  bold  ; 
But  oh  !  v/e  Bears  do  suffer  sore 

For  all  your  fame. 
The  she  Bears  tremble  at  your  name ;  — 

Hunt  us  no  more." 


m.. 


THE  BEAU-WIFE, 


283 


"  Come  live  with  lue; 
A  pleasant  life  our  life  shall  be. 

Of  savory  things,— 
Of  fruits  of  earth  the  Summer  bring, 

P™.ts  good  alike  for  Bear.  u„d  Men 
VVe  eat  our  fill  • 

Then  sleep  the  winter  long,  until 
Spring  conies  again." 

'%  daughter,  too, 
^'  ^°"  ""  ^^^f^N  will  give  to  you." 

^^hen  she  came  nigh, 
And  moccasins  so  warm  and  dry 

i^ut  on  his  feet;  while  she  did  lean 
All  unafraid. 

He  thought  he  had  „o  Indian  maid 
feo  lovely  seen. 


And  biding  there. 

He  took  for  wife  tli.f  \\t 

vvireuiat  Woman-bear; 

^^O',  void  of  strife, 
I'lved  happily  in  wedded  life 

Two  sons  erewhile  she  bore  to  him. 
-Like  her,  one  son 

A  Bear  became  •  nn  T^^i- 

"•^ '  ^n  Indian  one 

In  mind  and  limb 

37 


! 


284 


THE  BEAU -WIFE. 


\  1 


'■(J 

\m 


m 


(  ': ' 

( ■ 


The  Bear-chikl,  sore 
Oppressed  with  heat,  the  mother  bore 

With  her  to  sleej) 
Into  the  caves,  so  cool  and  deep ; 
The  other,  left  alone  in  pain. 

With  hunger  pressed, 
Would  call  and  cry  for  mother's  breast 

And  arms  in  vain. 


When  ripe  and  good 
The  nuts  were  fallen  in  the  wood  — 

Lay  thick  below. 
The  Bear-wife  said- — "Stay  while  I  go 
And  gather  acorns:''  with  her  kin 
Afar  she  went ; 
And  Yek-wai  tarried  well  content 
The  lodge  within. 


But  tired  at  last, 
Into  the  woods  he  wary  passed 

A  little  way, 
As  on  each  still-remembered  day, 

With  shaft  and  bow ;  and  looking  well 

About,  he  saw 
A  fat  she  Bear ;  on  her  did  draw, — 

And  down  she  fell. 


THE  BEAR -WIFE. 


285 


Oh  !  fatal  sliot ! 
For  when  he  came  nigh  to  the  spot, 

He  there,  with  awe, 
His  Bear-wife's  sister,  l)leeding  saw  : 
^'0  cruel  man  !"  she  cried;  —  "in  vain 

Our  kindness  shown ; 
Leave  us  I  pray  !  —  unto  your  own 

Return  again." 

Straight  did  he  go 
Back  to  the  lodge  ;  pretending  so 

By  speech  and  air 
That  all  the  time  he  had  been  there  ; 
The  Chief  knew  all :  —  with  anger  seized, 

Would  Yek-wai  kill. 
But  that  the  Bear-wife's  woman  skill 

His  wrath  ai)peased. 

The  Autumn  passed ; 
The  Winter  came  ;  the  Bears,  at  last, 

As  all  Bears  do. 
Into  their  winter-lodge  withdrew. 

There  Yek-wai  with  his  Bear-wife  went ; 

And  lovingly 
Together  in  a  hollow  tree 

They  lived  content. 


11^ 


286 


THE  BEAU-WIFE. 


'5 1 ,  i 


1  i   !  ' 


m 


i  i 

i' 

li'  \ 

% 

ii 

X----^-- 


But  tlicm  erewhile 
A  hunter  spied.     To  him  beguile, 

Out  of  the  hole 
All  cautiously  the  Bear-wife  stole  ; 
Jumped  from  the  tree  ;  with  leap  and  bound 

And  lame-pretence 
All  I.  red  him  on,  —  escaping  thence 

Without  a  wound. 


When  home  again 
Returned,  she  cried  —  "Unhappy  man  ! 

0  Yek-w.ii !  pray 
Go  back,  and  with  your  people  stay  : 
Our  union  has  brought  only  ill ; 

You  killed,  ah  me  ! 
My  sister ;  now  your  friends,  you  see, 

Seek  us  to  kill." 


"  It  is  not  well 
That  bears  and  men  together  dwell ; 

Each  with  its  kind, 
As  the  Great  Spirit  has  designed, 
Alone  is  good  for  men  and  bears  ; 

As  we  can  see, 
A  different  habitation  he 

For  each  prepares.'' 


THE  BEAR-WIFE. 


287 


>und 


And  Yek-wai  then 
Unto  his  tribe  returned  again  ;- 

Took  thence  his  son- 
The  bear-wife  kept  the  bear-like  one 
And  though  ho  led  a  hunter-life 
Full  many  a  year 
No  she  bear  would  he  kill,'for  fear 
To  kill  his  wife. 


Id* 


Hi 

i 


i 


IV 


M?; 


SHTN-GE-BIS. 

He,  Shin-ge-bis,  so  bold  sind  free, 
Was  duck  or  man,  as  he  might  ph?ase ; 

Him,  in  his  barky  wigwam,  Ho, 
Kabi-bonok-ka,  could  not  freeze; 

But  four  small  logs  the  winter  through 
Had  he  to  burn  to  keep  him  Avarm  ; 

Yet  stout  of  heart,  no  fear  he  knew — 
Laughed  at  the  Winter's  raging  storm. 


Ml 


.1  ' 

(iii 


[: 


i+r^ 


I.  I' 


The  Windy  God— the  North  Wind  cold- 
"Who  is  the  wondrous  man  ?" — said  he  : 
"  I  do  not  like  such  daring  bold  ;  — 
This  Shin-ge-bis  must  mastered  be ; 

I  high  will  pile  the  drifting  snow. 
Will  freeze  the  lakes — the  rivers  fast ; 

Will  bid  the  mighty  tempests  blow, 
And  with  a  tenfold  fiercer  blast." 


SHIN-GE-BIS 


Still  Shin-ge-bis,  through  storm  and  gloara, 
Unto  the  reedy  mere  he  went ; 

His  strings  of  fish  came  dnigginj^  home;  — 
Cooked,  ate  and  slept  he,  well  content ; 

Sang  to  the  fire-light's  paling  glow, 
As  on  his  bear-skin  couch  ho  lay  : 
"  Kabi-bonok-ka,  blow,  and  blow  — 
Ivabi-bonok-ka,  go  your  way." 

Swift  winged  the  North  Wind  o'er  th«»  land. 
Unto  the  wigwam  wroth  he  came  ; 

There  Shin-ge-bis  saw,  listening,  stand  — 
Saw  just  beside  the  barky  frame, 

Kabi-bonok-ka,  chill  and  wan  ; 
Still  louder  rang  his  roundelay  : 
"Ho  !  Shin-ge-bis  is  still  your  man  — 
Ho  !  Windy  God,  I  know  3'our  way/' 


Wild  and  more  shrill  the  North  Wind  ])lew, 
And  yet  a  colder  blast  he  sent ; 

Then,  as  aside  the  mat  he  drew. 
He  stalked  into  the  reedy  tent, — 

Sat  mute  beside  the  failing  fire  ; 
Without,  the  tempest's  roar  and  clang 

Rose  louder — higher  still  and  higher; 
Yet  Shin-ge-bis,  he  careless  sang : 


200 


SIIIN-GE-BrS. 


if' 


L 


'Si 


It 


IH^ 


if  ■ 


\h 


"Ho  !  you  are  but  my  fellow  man  !" 
He  stirred  the  coals,  a  warmer  glow 

They  gave  ;  the  tears  free  overran 
Kabi-boiiok-ka'a  eyes  of  snow  — 

Fell  streaming  down ;'' Alas  !"  said  he, 
"I  cannot  stay — this  will  not  do, 

I  cannot  master  him,  I  see ; 
His  is  a  mighty  Mauito." 

Then  from  the  wigwam  silently 
He  went ;  still  fleeing  far  and  long  ; 

Still  on  the  land,  or  on  the  sea 
He  heard  of  Shin-ge-bis  the  song  : 

"Heigh  ho  !  my  Windy  God  !"  — sang  he, 
Let  blow  the  fiercest  blasts  you  may ; 

Still  Shin-ge-bis  will  happy  b(^  — 
You  cannot  freeze  him — go  your  way." 


SPEECI[  OF  ME-TKY-A. 

Me-tey-a :  thou  didst  make  thine  own 
Thy  people's  wrongs — still  unredressed. 

Remembering  tlie  despairing  moan 
That  struggled  through  thy  vain  i)r()test, 

I  hear  again,  or  seem  to  hear  :  — 
'My  Father,  hearken  what  I  say  ; 

Have  pity  on  your  children  dear  — 
They  would  not  go  afar  away. 


''You  see  our  land  is  very  fair ;  — 
We  sold  you  of  our  land  before  ; 

Your  children  built  their  wigwams  there ; 
Already  you  are  asking  more ; 

But  oh  !  we  cannot  sell  you  all  — 
We  cannot  sell  our  homes  to-day  ; 

Our  country  now  is  all  too  small ; 

We  would  not  go  afar  away. 

38 


292 


SPEECH  OF  ME-TEY-A. 


M'  W 


"This  land — this  goodly  land — you  see, 
The  Mighty  Manito,  he  gave 

To  grow  the  Indian's  corn,  and  be 
His  hunting-ground,  his  home,  and  grave  ; 

We  built  our  homes  here  long  ago — 
Here  where  you  see  our  homes  to-day  ; 

It  was  our  father's  home  ;  and  oh  ! 
We  would  not  go  afar  away. 


iV 


MH- 


■" — .i 


"Our  hearts  are  good  :  —  but  do  not  seek 
For  more  to  get  our  little  land  ;" 

Your  dusky  childrens'  hands  are  weak  — 
My  Father's  is  a  mighty  hand. 

0  !  open  wide  your  cars  ;  —  0  !  let 
Your  hearts,  too,  hearken  what  I  cay ; 

1  speak  for  all  in  Council  met ;  — 
We  would  not  go  afar  away. 

"  Look  on  our  aged  warriors  there. 
Look  on  our  women's  trembling  fears ; 

Look  on  our  children,  pleading  fair, — 
Have  pity  on  our  falling  tears  ; 

See  where  my  people's  wigwams  stand, 
There  would  your  dusky  children  stay  ; 

How  can  they  leave  their  Father-land  ? 
We  cannot  go  afar  away." 


1 1 

;  I 


ii<|    ■ 


SPEECH  or  ME-TEY-A. 

»M  all  the  plam  with  hurrying  di„ 
Had  hghtiy  w„ke  a^  ,„„^^    »^^ 

The..  eheert„,Ho™e-fire  bright  had  i. 

Or  where  the  .springs  of  Kantakee 
Tta  grassy  n.eadovs  i,..terlaee, 

Ti^yWi,  People's  dwelling  p,^,. 

Of  what  avail  these  tears  that  flow 
'-^oethan  availed  thy  n,„nrnfu,"IU,. 

Thy  latest  kinsman  long  ago  "^      ^ 

^ent  sorrowing  on -„f J,; 


388 


li 


m 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  HUNTER-KxVCE. 


St!;; 


;l 


I. 


nil: 

III 


Ye  lingering  few,  Avho  suffering  bide  — 
Who  wander  where  the  fulling  moon 

Looks  on  Missouri's  farthest  tide, 
Fair  silvers  o'er  each  lone  lagoon  ; 

Far-exiled  from  your  native  plains 
Ye  homesick  roam  the  desert-wild, 

Or  where  Sierra-winter  reigns, 
With  mountains  high  on  mountains  piled. 

With  grief  in  other  years  unknown. 
When  crimson  ran  each  bleeding  breast, 

I  hear  afar  your  dying  moan 
Go  shrieking  down  the  fading  West. 

The  fading  West ! — even  now  I  see 
Your  footsteps  on  its  forthest  shore ; 

The  fading  West ! — there  soon  will  be 
For  you  a  fading  West  no  more. 


II  n  1 


And  When  no  more  a  fading  West 
Ihese  anxious  eyes  shall  seek  in  vain 

TIuHh.s  broad  land,  so  fair  „„,.„„,, 

Where  now  the  Pale  f.„    c. 
Was  all  vo„r  I,     /  Strangers  dwell 

"  your  heritage  of  old  ? 

Yet  on-stiIIon,-„nresting  flee 
^."  bouned  b,  the  billowy  wLt, 

JorohianiorereniorseWsea 

T^^7"*-«»!>' footsteps  haste; 

The  hurrying,  eager  Hosts  of  Toil 
'^''-like  a  fiery  billow  sweep, 

Tospoiltliewild-withittospoil 
Your  homes  beside  the  rolling  deep 

Win  the  sunset's  waning  light 
Above  the  hungry,  roaring  Cave^  ' 
I  see  a3  „it],  p„pj_^_j.^ 

The  last  of  al,  the  Hunter  a-avls, 

With  warrior  arm  uplifted  high, 
A.^cry,ng  to  the  Indian's  God, 

V\^.th  one  long,  lost,  despairing  cry 
He  «nks  in  the  devouring  flo«l.       ' 


295 


296 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  HUNTER-RACE. 


u> 


:iJ: 


Gone — all  are  gone — the  noble  dead, 
Save  from  this  sorely-aching  breast ; 

Though  prone  1  linger,  all  are  fled 
Of  forms  and  sounds  I  love  the  best. 

No  more  return  the  days  gone  by  — 
The  mournful  waves  along  the  shore 

Blend  with  my  own  their  wail  and  cry, 
And  echo  back —  "No  more  ! — no  more  !  I" 


.J '  '■ 


hh 


'^^^'^^^"f'eatcciH  in  the  earth   U        , 

'^^<^*th,u  needs  must  tvalt 


M 


s 


(li. 


■I 


^'k 


t 

SI 

i 

liiitL,,., 

rec 
dee 
lut( 

N 

N( 

ther 

Rive 

"] 

grou 

pend 

quen 

norb 

gener 

a  nioi 

waa  tr 


Not( 

The 
matiou 
may  he 
mind  t( 
aud  fal 


Notes. 


Note  1.  "  Ye  lingering  f<'w  ti'/io  weakly  stand 

Where  strong  of  olil  ijtmr  fathers  stood." 


PaRo  0. 


"There  ttrp  Htill  renidiiiK  In  the  State  of  New  York  iiliont  four  thoiisaiid  Iro- 

(I'lioiH  1 1851 1.      Tlie  Hevenil  fraj^iiieiitu  of  tlm  nations  yet  continue  tlu^r  relation- 

Bhips  and  iutcreoiirso  with  each  other,  and  cliuK  to  tlie  Hliadow  of  tlie  unciont 

League." 

Lkwih  H.  Mouuan'h  Leagi/fi  of  the  froqiiols. 

It  1h  cluimtd  that  their  mimbera  are  now  slowly  on  the  iacreaHe. 


Note  2. 


"  ///'/  /■/*  Ih-  sacred  wampum-baiitl." 


Page  8. 


"The  original  Wuiupuin  of  the  IroipioiH,  in  which  the  Iuwh  of  the  League  were 
recorded,  was  made  of  spiral  frcHh-wuter  nhellH,  (Mn-lco-tt,  whicli  were  Htrniiij  on 
deer-skiu  wirings,  or  siuews,  and  the  strands  braided  Into  belts,  or  simply  united 
Into  strings."—  IhiiL 


Note  3.  "  Traced  only  by  the  narrow  trail 

That  dusky  nioccasined  feet  had  fnade." 


Page  l;t. 


Not  only  the  villages  of  tlie  Iroquois  were  connected  by  woll-worn  trails,  but 
there  was  one  priuoipal  trail  that  extended  all  the  distance  from  the  Hudson 
River  to  Lake  Erie. 

"  It  was  usually  from  twelve  to  eighteen  inches  wide,  and  deeply  worn  in  the 
ground ;  varying  in  this  respect  from  three  to  six,  and  even  twelve  inches,  de- 
pending upon  the  flrmness  of  the  soil.  The  largo  trees  on  each  side  were  fre- 
quently marked  with  the  hatchet.  This  well-beaten  foot-path,  wliich  no  runner, 
nor  band  of  warriors  could  mistake,  had  doubtless  been  trodden  by  successive 
generations  from  century  to  century.  *  '■■  While  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  ascertain 
a  more  direct  route  than  the  one  pursued  by  tliis  trail,  the  accuracy  with  which  it 
was  traced  from  point  to  point  to  save  distance,  is  extremely  surprising," 

League  (f  the  Iro(juoes,  p.  429. 


Note  4.  "  The  cry  of  Ijeast  or  scream  of  liird 

That  sorrow's  dim  monitions  Inar." 


Page  1!). 


The  Indian  is  a  Arm  believer  in  a  multitude  of  signs  and  omens— in  transfor- 
mations, inearnatious,  and  jiossessious ;  an  animal,  as  a  deer,  a  biuir,  or  a  birdt 
may  be  a  messenger  of  good  or  evil.  The  natural  proueiiess  of  the  Indian's 
mind  to  superstition  has  b.^.iu  enhanced,  no  doubt,  by  their  marvelous  legeiida 
aud  fablea  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation. 

ay 


300 


XOTES. 


f] 


Note  S. 


"  Some  spirit  of  the  earth  or  air." 


Pago  29. 


"  Spirits  of  the  earth  an'l  air  ahoniul  on  every  hand,  who  Htatid  ready  to  Icn  1 
their  aid  l>y  iiilia1>itinK  hiiiiiau  l)o.iii:s,  or  l)y  h  -ikUiik  luoiiHtorH,  or  giantH,  or  picr- 
mies,  to  do  the  iiecdcd  worlt.  TJie  wliole  <T«':itiuu  iH  ttllcil  witli  tlioBe  leRser  uplr- 
lt«,  of  l)eni({n  or  iimlinnaiit  (•hara<'ter,  who  at  oiin  iiioiiieiit  Hpriu){  out  of  a  roult, 
or  a  tree,  or  u  plaut,  or  auimutu  u  ehell,  an  iuwect  or  a  l)ird." 

Oneota,  by  H.  R.  Schoolcraft,  p.  259. 


Note  0. 


111 

w 


1 1 


! 


>' 


"Jitst  by  the  day'A  departing  track 
Great  Iniqorio's  shining  tent." 


Page  nx 


"  The  O-jllvwas,  and,  indeed,  nearly  all  tlie  North  Americuu  Indians,  sltuato 
their  Paradise  to  the  west. 

"An  C)-iii)-wa  legend  nnis  thus :  Paradise  waB  nia<le  by  Manabo-zho.  He  aided 
the  Great  Spirit  in  the  ereation  of  tlie  world,  and  at  tirst  neither  of  tliem  thought 
of  a  Paradise.  Man,  such  v  ih  heir  decree,  should  be  happy  in  tliis  earth,  aul 
find  a  satisfaction  in  this  life;  but  as  the  Evil  Spirit  Interfered,  and  produced 
wiclcedness,  illness,  death  and  misfortune  of  every  descrii)tion  among  them,  the 
poor  souls  wandered  about  deserted  and  homeless.  When  the  Great  Spirit  saw 
this  he  grieved  for  them,  and  ordered  Manal)o-zho  to  jjrepare  a  paradise  for  them 
in  the  west,  where  they  might  assemlde.  Mana)>o-zhu  made  it  very  beautiful,  and 
he  was  liimself  ajjpoiuted  to  receive  them  there." 

■  K'llchi  (Idini,  by  J.  G.  Koll,  p.  21fi. 

"  '  The  happy  home  beyond  the  setting  sun,  had  cheered  tlie  heart,  and.  lighteil 
the  expiring  eye  of  the  Indian,  before  the  sliips  of  Columbus  had  boruo  the  cross 
to  this  western  world." 

League  of  the  Iroquoix,  p.  163. 

Note  7.  Page  34. 

These,  and  other  myths,  will  be  louml  in  full  in  Jlhiivallut  Li(i<iiih,hy  M. 

R.  SCHOOLCUAFT. 

Note  8.  "  liright.  by  th"  O-i'i'iddi/d  shore  Page  40. 

He  lit  the  J/ome-Jire's  sacred  Jlamc." 

"  It  was  a  striking  peculiarity  of  the  ancient  religious  system  of  the  Iroquois  that 
once  a  year,  the  priesthood  suppUed  the  people  with  sacred  tire.  For  tills  piu^ose 
a  set  time  was  announced  for  the  ruling  priest's  visit.  The  entire  village  was 
apprised  of  this  visit,  and  the  master  of  each  lodge  was  expected  to  be  preparetl 
for  this  annual  rite.  *  *  His  lodge-flre  was  carefully  put  out  and  ashes  scattered 
about  it,  as  a  symbolic  sign  of  desolation  and  want.  Exliibiting  ttie  insignia  of 
the  sacerdotal  office,  he  (the  priest)  proceeded  to  invoke  the  Master  of  Life  in 
their  behalf,  and  ended  his  mission  by  striking  Are  from  the  flint,  or  from  per- 
pueuiou,  and  lijjhted  anew  the  domestic  lire." 

Jiotes  QH  (he  Iroquois,  H.  It.  Schoolcbaft,  p.  137. 


!■!  ! 


H'i 


yOTEff. 


301 


Note  9.  "  Wrovriht  Into  each  the  maffir  gpril 

Thalfatfful  is  for  good  or  ill." 


Pa(7»  41. 


"  They  believed  that  the  poHHesulon  of  certain  artlclcH  al)()nt  the  p<>rHoii  woiiM 
reuder  the  body  invuliuTulile;  or  that  tlicir  jjowers  over  an  eueiny  was  thuroby 
secured.    A  clianned  weapon  could  not  be  turned  aHide." 

Sohoolcraft'h  IIMory,  Condition  and  I'roxpects,  Vol.  I,  p.  86. 


Note  10. 


"  To  charm  and  guard  /its  hotne  and  place, 
ItH  l)arkii  h'iiIi*  lie  /lictiiffd  fair 

With,  to-femn  of  his  name  and  race." 


Pago  41. 


"  By  to-temlc  marks,  the  various  families  of  a  tribe  denote  their  ufflllittiou.  A 
guardian  spirit  has  been  selected  by  the  progenitor  of  a  fiiinily  from  sonui  object 
in  tliB  zoological  chain.  The  representative  device  of  this  is  cuUi^d  the  to-tom. 
Indians  are  proud  of  their  to-tcms,  and  are  prone  to  surround  them  with  allu- 
sions to  bravery,  strength,  talent,  the  power  of  endurance,  or  other  qualities.  A 
warrior's  to-tem  never  wants  honors,  in  thi'ir  remembninco,  and  the  mark  is  put 
upon  his  gravivpost,  or  (ut-je-du-ting,  when  ho  is  dead.  In  his  funeral  picto- 
graph  lie  invariubly  sinks  his  personal  name  in  that  of  his  to-tem  or  family 
uame.  There  appears  to  have  been  originally  three  to-tems  that  received  the 
highest  honors  and  respect.  They  were  the  Turtle,  Bear  and  Wolf.  These  were 
the  great  to-tems  of  the  Iroquois." 

It/id,  Vol.  V.  p.  73. 


Note  11. 


'  Ilia  sliaft  the  frightful  monster  slew." 


Page  42. 


"After  a  time  the  people  wore  invaded  by  the  monster  of  the  deep:  Tiie  Lako 
Seri>eut  traverses  the  coimtry,  which  interrupts  their  intercourse.  The  Ave  fam- 
ilies were  compelled  to  make  fortifications  throughout  their  respective  towns,  iu 
order  to  secure  themselves  from  the  devouring  monsters." 

David  Ciisic.    See  Sohoolobaft,  Vol.  V.  p.  C37. 


Note  12. 


"He  slew  the  frightful  Flying  Head." 


Page  43. 


"  The  Holder  of  the  Heavens  was  absent  from  the  country.  *  *  ♦  The  reason 
produced  the  occasion  that  th(>y  were  invaded  Ijy  the  monsters  called  Ko-neh- 
ran-neh-neh,  i.  e.,  Flying  Heads,  wliich  devoured  several  jH'ople  of  the  coiuitry. 
The  Flying  Heads  made  invasion  in  the  night;  but  the  people  were  attentive  to 
escape  by  leaving  their  huts  and  concealing  themselves  in  other  huts  prepared 
for  the  occasion."  Ibid,  Vol.  V.  !>.  (537. 


Note  13. 


"  The  Stonlsh  Giants  fierce  and  tall." 


Page  43. 


"  The  Stonish  Qiants  were  so  ravenous  that  they  devoured  the  people  of  almost 
every  to\vn  in  the  countrj' ;  but  happily  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens  again  visits 
the  people,  and  he  observes  that  the  people  are  iu  distressed  condition  on  account 
of  the  enemy.  With  a  stratagem  he  proceeds  to  banish  their  invaders,  and  he 
changes  liimself  into  a  Oiaut,  and  combines  the  Stouish  tiiauts,  he  introduces 


m 


it 


302 


NOTES. 


th»>m  to  takfi  th«  load  to  dootroy  tho  peoplo  of  tho  conntry ;  hut  n  day'R  march 
they  (lid  not  ri'a<'h  tho  fort  OiioikIhkh,  wIhtii  they  iiitcinl  to  invailc,  iiiiil  li« 
ordorod  tliciii  to  liiy  In  a  deep  hollow  diiriiiK  the  night,  and  they  would  niiike 
attack  on  the  following  niondn^* 

"At  tho  dawn  of  th«i  diiy  tho  Holder  of  the  HoavenH  aHcendcd  upon  the  liciKhtH 
and  ho  ovi-rwhelnicd  thcni  by  u  niUHH  of  rookH,  and  only  one  encaiied  to  iknnoinicf 
(lie  dreadful  fate;  and  Hinc'o  of  the  event  the  Stouiflh  OinntH  have  left  the  eouiilry 
and  HeekH  an  aHylum  in  the  regiouH  of  the  earth."  Jfild,  Vol.  V.  p.  (hiT. 


Note  14. 


"Gave  thanks  to  Owny-nfo  great." 


Phko  47. 


That  the  IndiaiiH  obnerved  the  <>nRtoin  of  K'viiiK  thaukH  before  meat,  ut  leaHt  on 
certain  occaHiouH,  and  at  their  great  feiiMtH,   iM  hIiowu  by  Hcverul  writ<Tn. 

ScHOOLCiiAKT,  Vol.  II,  p.  7fi,  also  A'ifcfil  (Hinii,  p.  'ilfl. 


w'l; 


Note  IS.  "  ITenelf  to  him,  thfi  favored  brar.f, 

She  proffered  with  a  rnodent  grace," 


PoKe     48. 


"  The  warrior  never  solicitH  the  maiden  to  dance  with  him  ;  that  privilege  was 
accorded  to  her  ulone.  In  the  inidHt  of  the  dance  tlie  femalcH  preneiit  theniHelves 
in  pairs  between  any  set  they  may  select,  thus  giving  to  each  a  partner." 

League  of  the  Iroquois,  p.  286. 


■*  ' 


tl. 


-41,    \ 
}'- 


Note  16. 


"With  teeming  fields  of  growing  corn." 


Page  48. 


"  They  cultivated  this  plant,  as  also  the  bean  and  the  squash,  before  the  forniii- 
tioii  of  the  T^eague.  It  cannot  thiictoro  be  affirmed  with  correctness  that  tho 
Indian  subsisted  principally  by  the  chase.  The  (lUautiUes  of  corn  raised  liy  the 
Iroipiois  was  a  constant  cause  of  remivrk  by  those  who  went  earliest  among 
them."  Ibid,  p.  198. 


Note  17. 


"  Ta-ren-ya-wa-go !  Mighty  Man  !!" 


Page  54. 


In  one  form  of  the  legend  this  remarkable  personage  was  called  Ta-ren-ya-wa- 
go,  that  is,  The  Holder  of  the  Heavens.  "  His  wisdom  was  as  great  as  his  jwwer. 
The  people  listened  to  him  with  admiration,  and  followed  his  advice  gladly. 
There  was  nothing  in  which  he  did  not  excel  good  Inniters,  brave  warriors  and 
elocpieut  orators."  Schoolcraft,  Vol.  III.  p.  314. 


Note  18. 


"  Still  on  to  many  a  stranger  sea." 


Page  55. 


"  We  And  curious  Indian  travelers,  who  came  a  great  distance,  mentioned  in 
the  first  European  reports  about  Indians.  The  Choctas  jjreservo  the  memory  of 
a  celebrated  traveler  of  their  tril)e,  .vno  luidertook  a  long  journey  west,  in  ordor 
to  find  tlio  sea  in  which  tlm  uni  disai)pe;irHd  at  setting. 

"  Similar  traditions  about  great  journeys  and  travelers  are  found  among  other 
tribes."  Kitchi  Garni,  p.  121. 


'^'.1 


X0TE8, 


303 


Moteltt.  "  Tlhn  fFatfn-u<fnf-fia  ffir;/  ifhf  vntm; 

The  iriHful  In',  Ul/ioiiiJ  tlie  wiKr," 


P»K«'  M. 


"  Whon  an  Inrtlvlclnal  wan  raiHod  up  an  a  Harhcm,  his  oilp.tiial  iiamp  wan  laid 

nniilc,  anil  tiiiit  of  tlii>  HuchfinHliii)  itHcir  aHHniiiiil.  In  Ii1(i<  niannt-r,  at  th<*  ralNin^' 
np  of  a  chief,  tho  (•oiuii'il  of  tlm  nation  which  jxTfornu'd  llu-  ccri  niony,  took 
uw«y  tht>  former  jninie  of  the  incipient  cliief  unit  aHMi(,'ne<l  him  a  new  one. 

"TIniH  wlien  tlie  cilcliriiteil  Hcd  .Tacliet  wiiH  elevated  liy  election  to  the  dignity 
of  achief,  IUh  oriKlnal  name,  ()-te-ti-an-i,  '  alwajn  ready,'  waa  taken  fror.i  him, 
and  In  ItH  place  waH  ImHtuwiMl  Sa-go-ye-wnt-ha,  '  keei)er  awake,'  in  alhiHion  to 
the  powerH  of  hlH  eloquence."  League  of  tlw  Inx/uoh,  p.  t!>. 


Note  ao.  "  lie,  Uayn-H'eiit'hn  gnnil  and  great, 

WoiilU  iroo  and  wed  a  iiiorlut  bride." 


PaKe  58. 


"After  ho  had  ^iven  them  wIhc  Intttrnctlons  for  olwervinR  the  lawH  and  maxims 
of  thi!  Great  Spirit,  ♦  *  ♦  lie  luid  awide  the  \n\i\l  prerogative  of  IiIh  public  mis- 
sion, and  reHolvid  to  hcI  tliem  an  example  of  how  tiny  t»hould  live. 

"  For  tliiM  p\l^I)(l^<(^  he  Helected  a  beautiful  spot  on  the  southern  Hhore  of  one  ol 
the  leHser  lakeH,  which  Ih  oallod  Tl-o-to  (CroHH  Lake)  by  the  natives  to  this  day. 
Here  he  erected  his  lodge,  planted  his  field  of  corn,  kept  by  him  his  nui^'ic  canoe, 
and  selected  u  wife."  II.  U.  Hcuoolchakt,  Vol.  III.  p.  liU. 


Note  21.  "  /;/  the  fore-gone  time  of  fueling.  Page  6B. 

Whi  lire  f  drew 
Smile  and  li/essing  of  (he  Mighty 
Manilo.'' 

"  The  rite  of  fastln{»  is  one  of  the  most  deoii-scatod  and  universal  In  the  Indi- 
an's ritual.  It  is  practiced  amonu  all  the  American  tribes,  and  is  deemed  by 
them  essential  to  their  Huecess  in  life  in  every  situation.  No  young  man  is  litt^d 
to  begin  the  career  of  lite  until  he  has  accomplished  his  great  fast.  Heveii  day  \ 
appear  to  have  been  the  maximum  limit  of  endiu'ancf,  and  the  success  of  t'l- 
devotee  is  inferred  from  the  leugtli  of  continued  abstinence  to  which  he  is  kuowu 
to  have  attained. 

"These  fasts  are  anticipated  l)y  youth  as  one  of  the  mcjst  imi)(>rtant  events  in 
life;  they  are  awaited  witli  interest,  prepared  for  with  solemuity,  and  endure<l 
with  a  self-devotlou  bordering  on  the  heroic." 

Alijir  Itegeunhcs,  H.  11.  Schoolcraft,  Vol.  I.  p.  1IH. 


T  !    1 


Note  22.  " Ihiild  the  flre,  make  bright  the  wiga'<tni, 

As  the  forest  t/utlden  ehonld." 


Page  ««. 


lu  the  jniro  hunter  state,  the  division  of  labor  between  the  man  and  wife  is  not 
80  »nie(|ual  as  many  suppose. 

"  Where,  then,  tlu;  wliole  duty  and  labor  of  providing  the  means  of  subsist- 
ence, ennobled  by  danger  and  courage,  falls  upon  the  man,  the  woman  naturally 
Biuku  iu  importance,  and  is  a  dependent  drudge.    But  she  is  uot  therefore,  I  sup- 


1 


304 


NOTES. 


poHi',  SO  Very  miHeraMe,  nor,  relatively,  bo  very  abject ;  Bhe  Is  mire  of  pro'cction ; 
siiro  of  maiiitt'iiaiice,  lit  leiiHt  wliilo  the  miii)  huH  it ;  sure  of  Ifiiul  treiitiueiit ;  Huro 
tliat  Hlie  will  iicvor  h.ivo  her  chlUlreu  fakou  from  her  but  by  death;  sees  uouo 
better  otf  than  hcrsolf,  aud  it  is  evident  that  iu  such  a  state  the  appointed  and 
uei'e.-<nai"y  share  of  the  woman  is  the  household  work,  aud  all  other  domestic 
labors."  Wits.  Jamison,  in  Winter  t^tuilics  ((ml  iSiiminer  lianiblfs. 

From  unpublished  notes  by  the  late  Mr.  W.  H.  Clarlte,  of  Chicago,  whosa 
acijnaiutauue  with  leading  Indians  of  the  West  exteude.l  over  in:iuy  years,  I  am 
permitted  to  make  some  extracts.  He  was  well  aciiiiaiuted  with  Mrs.  School- 
craft, to  whom  the  world  is  greatly  indebted  for  her  praiseworthy  efl'orts  to  pre- 
serve tlio  legendary  lore  of  the  Indians.  Herself  of  Indian  lineage,  and  speudiug 
the  greater  part  of  a  loug  life  among  her  people,  her  Htatomeuts  cannot  but  be 
taken  as  tnistworthy. 

In  answer  to  (piestions  as  to  the  comUtion  of  tlie  Indian  women,  she  said,  "  It 
was  better  thau  that  of  the  'white  woman,  taking  into  oousideration  the  dilfor- 
ences  between  the  races.  That  is  to  say,  although  on  account  of  many  inevital)le 
causes,  the  Indian  woman  is  8ut)jected  to  many  hardsliips  of  a  physical  nature, 
yet  her  position,  compared  to  that  of  man,  is  higher  and  freer  thau  that  of  the 
wliite  woinau." 

"(J  Mr.  (J.  I"  said  she,  "why  will  they  look  only  upon  one  side?  they  either 
exalt  the  lied  Man  into  a  deini-god,  or  degrade  him  into  a  b^Mst.  They  say  ho 
coiiipels  his  wife  to  do  all  the  drudgery,  while  ho  does  nothing  but  hunt  and 
amuse  himself ;  forgetting  that  upon  his  activity  and  powers  of  endurance  as  a 
huuter  depends  the  support  of  his  fa  Jiily." 


Note  23. 


\\ 

i 

;  :i 

"  She  is  of  my  iwble  people 
Oiigue  Ilonwe—that,  is  welt." 


I'age  OG. 


The  term,  Onouk  Honwe, — a  people  surpassing  all  others— that  the  Irofpiois 
proudly  applied  to  themselves,  V)eing  older  thau  the  discovery  of  tlie  continent 
liy  Europeans,  did  not  refer  to  them;  but  denoted  a  people  surpassing  all  other 
red  men.    Iu  that  seuse  it  was  probably  strictly  true. 

Note  24.  "  Xo  rjarilen  lilies  utidcflled,  Pago  72. 

No  su'eets  their  frdgrance  may  possess, 

Surpass  the  roses  of  the  wild— 
The  beauty  of  the  wilderness," 

Had  not  the  writer,  iu  his  casual  Intercourso  with  the  Indians,  seen  among 
them  maidens  of  surpassing  beauty,  conii)aring  favorably  wit'.i  the  most  lovely 
maidens  of  th'^  White  Itace,  lie  would  hardly  have  ventured  to  give  expression  to 
what  will  probably  seem  to  many  as  existing  only  in  the  pictm-es  of  au  exalted 
imagination. 

I'redrika  Bremer,  In  her  Homes  of  the  New  World,  says  of  an  Indian  maiden 
she  saw  in  Minnesota:  "Shovas  so  briUiant  and  of  such  luiusual  beauty  that 
she  literally  seemed  to  light  up  the  whole  room  as  she  entered.  Her  shoulders 
were  broad  ami  ronnd,  aud  her  carriage  drooping,  as  is  usual  with  Indian  women, 


NOTES, 


805 


wha  are  early  accuBtomed  to  carry  l)nrdenB  on  their  backs;  but  the  beauty  of  the 
'.'uuuteuauce  waH  bo  extraorcUuary  that  I  cannot  but  think  that  if  HUch  a  face  were 
to  be  seen  in  one  of  the  drawing-rouJiiB  ci"  the  fasliiouable  world,  it  would  tlnT<' 
bo  regarded  as  the  t3i>e  of  a  licuuty  hitherto  unknown.  It  waH  the  wild  l)cauty  of 
the  forest,  at  tlie  same  time  melancholy  and  splendid." 

Mrs.  Jamison  also  speaks  in  high  terms  of  Indian  women  she  met.  Of  Mrs. 
Sciioolcraf  t  she  says :  "  Her  genuine  refnienient  and  simplicity  of  manners,  and 
native  taste  for  literature,  are  charming.  *  *  *  While  in  conversation  with  her, 
new  ideas  of  the  Indian's  character  suggest  themselves.  *  *  She  is  proud  of  her 
Indian  origin.  *  ♦  Buc  there  is  a  melancholy  and  pity  in  her  voice  when  speak- 
ing of  them  [her  people],  as  if  she  did  indeed  consider  them  a  doomed  race." 

O.' another  Indian  woman  she  says:  "Though  now  no  longer  young,  and  the 
mother  of  twelve  children,  she  is  one  of  the  handsomest  Indian  women  I  have 
yet  seen.  *  ♦  Her  daughter,  Zah-gah-see-ga-(iuay — the  sunbeams  breaking 
through  a  cloud— is  a  very  beautiiul  girl,  with  eyes  that  are  a  warrant  for  her 
poetic  name." 


Not«  23.  "As  youth  and  maiden  may,  did  seek 

Some  token  of  her  happii  rfafe." 


Page  74. 


"Even  the  Indian  girls  dream  at  times  that  they  will  become  mighty  nnniers, 
and  evince  a  i)ride  in  excelling  in  this  art,  like  the  men.  A  case  occurred  diu'iug 
my  stay  at  I^a  Pointe.  A  warlike  maiden  suddenly  appeared,  who  boasted  of 
having  taken  a  Sioux  scalp,  and  she  was  led  in  triumph  from  lodge  to  lodge. 

"  I  was  told  that  a  suiierannuated  femalu  had  appeared  to  this  girl,  who  was 
now  nineteen,  during  the  period  of  her  great  fasts  and  di-eams  of  life,  wlio 
proiihesied  to  her  that  she  wmxld  becouie  the  greatest  runner  of  her  tribe,  and 
thus  g.".''\  the  mightiest  warrior  for  li.isbaud. 

"  I  must  remark  here,  as  indeed  every  reader  will  easily  conjecture,  that  the 
fasting  dreams  of  the  Indian  girls  chiefly  allude  to  the  subject  of  marriage. 
Thrice  -  so  said  the  prophetic  voice  -she  would  join  in  an  exi)etUtion  against  the 
Sioux,  and  thrice  save  herself  by  her  speed  of  foot.  In  running  home,  the  war- 
riors of  her  tribe  would  strive  to  outstrip  her,  but  she  would  in  two  first  cam- 
paigns outstrip  everybody.  *  *  On  the  i-eturn  from  the  tliird  campaign,  how- 
ever, a  young  Ojib-wa  would  race  with  her,  and  coucjuer  her,  and  she  would  then 
be  married  to  him. 

"  The  girl  had  made  her  llrst  war  expedition  this  year.  She  had  proceeded 
with  the  warriors  of  her  tribe  into  the  enemy's  camp,  raised  the  scalp  of  a 
wounded  Sioux  on  the  battle-lield,  and  had  run  straigh  homo  for  several  days, 
thus  bringing  the  first  news  of  the  victory,  wliioh  greatly  augmented  her  renown. 
*  ♦  She  was  pointed  out  to  every  onoas  the  heroine  of  the  day  and  of  the  island ; 
and  probably  ere  this  some  young  waiTior  has  run  a  race  with  her,  in  which  she 
was  only  too  ready  to  be  defeated."  Kitchi  O'ami,  p.  125. 


300 


NOTES. 


Note  26. 


"Loie  beckon  from  her  wiiidiig  place" 


Page  7". 


"  The  wife  of  the  hunter  }ia8  the  entire  control  of  the  wigwam  and  all  its  tern-  ' 
poralities.  To  eacli  person  who  is  a  memlwr  of  the  lod{je  family  ih  aHBi^'ueil  a 
fixed  Beat,  or  habitual  abiiling  place,  whieli  is  called  ffi^^^/io.s-.  *  *  If  the  sou  is 
married  and  brinfjH  hin  bride  home,  the  mothc^r  assigns  the  bride  her  (iht)iiiog. 
This  is  done  by  spreading  one  of  the  finest  skins  for  her  seat,  and  no  one  besides 
her  husband  ever  Bits  there,  *  *  In  this  manner  tl..e  jiorsonal  rights  of  each 
individual  are  guarded.  The  female  is  piuictilions  as  to  her  own,  so  that  i)erlect 
orler  is  maintained."  II.  11.  Schoolcraft,  Vol.  II.  p.  O'i. 

Note  27.  "Or  jilucked  the  Autumn's  ripened  tart,  Page  77. 

As  well,  and  Jit  for  Indian  tnti/d." 

"It  is  well  knowii  tliat  corn-planting  and  corn-gathering,  at  least  among  all  the 
Btill  iincolouized  triljes,  arc  left  entirely  to  the  women.  It  is  not  generally  known, 
perhaps,  that  this  labor  is  not  compulsory,  and  that  it  Is  assumed  by  the  women 
as  a  just  equivalent,  in  their  view,  for  the  onerous  and  contin>io\is  labor  of  the 
other  Hex,  in  providing  meat,  and  skins  for  clothing,  by  the  chase,  and  in  de- 
fending their  villages  ugaijist  their  enemies.  *  *  A  good  Indian  housewife  deems 
this  a  part  of  her  jirerogative,  and  jjrides  herself  to  have  a  store  of  corn  to  exer- 
cise her  hospitality,  or  duly  honor  her  huKband's  hospitality,  iu  the  ent»rtain- 
meut  of  the  lodge  guests."  Oneota,  p.  62. 


Note  28. 


"To  gather  its  kernels  ripe  and  good.'' 


Pago  77. 


The  wild  rice  of  the  north  is  the  Zizanla  Palnsfr/s,  and  abounds  iu  the  shal- 
low waters  of  the  Western  lakes  and  rivers.  It  forms  a  dish  palatable  and  nutri- 
tious ;  and  is  the  i)nucipal  vegetable  food  of  the  Indians  where  it  abounds.  It 
is  gathered  by  the  wonien,  who  shove  their  canoes  among  it,  and,  bending  the 
ripened  heads  over  the  boat,  beat  out  the  grain  with  i)addl -s. 


Note  29. 


"  Wi/li  patient  frtifit  her  hunger  bore 
And  all  heroic  sacrifice." 


Pagd  79. 


"All  acknowledge  their  lives  to  be  in  the  hands  of  the  Great  Spirit,  fie'  a  con- 
viction that  all  things  come  from  him,  that  he  loves  them,  and  that,  although  ho 
allows  them  to  suCTer,  he  will  again  supply  them.  No  people  are  more  easy  or 
less  clamorous  under  suffering  of  the  deepest  die,  and  none  are  more  happy,  or 
more  prone  to  evince  their  happiness  when  prosperous  in  their  affairs." 

H.  U.  Scnooi.ruAFT,  Vol.  II.  p.  73. 

Note  30.  "Or  only  do  we  fail  to  find  Page  HO. 

The  measure  meet  for  gifts  diverse?" 

"Genius,  learning  and  Christianity  change  the  features  of  society,  and  ca^■t 
over  it  an  artificial  garment,  b\it  its  elements  continue  the  same.  It  need  rut 
awaken  surprise  that  Uie  Indian  has  revealed  many  of  the  highest  viitues  of 


Hi  'I 


^'OTES. 


307 


Christianized  man  :  or  thnf  i„ 

ou  earth,  liis  he.,rf  w...    ,    , ,            "  °P*'"  ^-'ke  shore    *  *  t^                    '"'' '™'» 

andhed^siredl.!'  ^'^^  gladdened  once  more  by  Ci'n.,  tt  """"  '"''  ^"^'  ^^""<'r 

wan  ,.errormed';;r;u, ;'"":;  "'""^^  •-  ---1 H;  i  xr""";'''""'"" 

Note  32.  „  , 

dreHKPH  were  t-xhihif    .      »,'*''*''" -^''s^i^-siMii   in  lM.)r  At  tlie  tiva- 

".i!..ScuooLci.Ai-.r,Vol.in.p.e7. 


II 


Note  a3. 


I'ttfe'o  90. 


It  li-i^  iw  "  '^'I'oincU  film  ' " 

■11-  lias  i)Cfii  uHsertei?  In- 

40  '"  ■'"'^'*"  wu«  litvtT 


308 


yoTES. 


If 


W: 


ml- 
111: 

in ; 

m 


Mi 


In!  , 


inflneuced  by  the  tender  passion.  He  could  never  have  embodletl  In  his  mytho- 
lof^'ical  HtorioR  a  sontiiiiont  to  which  his  niiud  and  heart  could  not  reopoud,  and 
that  had  no  existeuco  in  his  experieucos  of  life. 

So  many  of  the  Indian  IpRonds  are  founded  npon  the  idea  of  love,  as  a  tender 
andlaKtinf»  sentiinpnt,  existing  between  tlie  young  hunter  and  tlie  young  maiden, 
tliat  it  is  a  little  remarkable  these  writers  did  not  observe  the  fact.  See  The  lied 
Lover,  The  White  Stone  Canoe,  Oxseo,  and  many  more. 

Nor  Is  this  view  wanting  in  confirmation  from  well-authenticated  incideuts, 
among  the  dwellers  in  tlie  wig-wum.  Mrs.  Jamison  says:  "  Some  time  ago  a 
young  Chippewa  girl  conceived  a  violent  passion  for  a  hunter  of  a  different  tribe, 
and  followed  him  from  his  winter  hunting-grounils  to  his  own  village.  lie  was 
already  married,  and  the  wife,  not  being  inclined  to  admit  a  rival,  drove  this 
love-sick  damsel  away,  and  treated  her  with  tlie  utmost  indignity.  Tlie  girl,  in 
desperation,  offered  lierKclf  as  a  slave  to  the  wife,  to  carry  wood  and  water,  and 
lie  at  her  feet,— anything  to  bo  admitted  within  the  same  lodge  and  only  to  look 
upon  the  object  of  her  affections." 


Note  34. 


"Listened— a^  on/;/  ivonuin  innij, 
Upon  his  deeper  tliouijhl  intent.^' 


Page  94. 


"  While  at  the  meal,  which  is  prolonged  by  cheerful  conversation,  anecdotes, 
and  little  narratives  of  personal  adventure,  the  women  are  among  tlie  Listeners ; 
and  no  one,  excejjt  the  aged,  ever  obtrudes  a  word.  The  young  women  and  girls 
show  tliat  they  partake  of  the  festivities  by  smiles,'  and  are  scrupulous  to  evince 
their  attention  to  the  elder  part  of  the  company." 

H.  K.  SCHOOLCKAFT,  Vol.  II.  p.  75. 


Note  35. 


Page  110. 


"Nor  her  alone  keep  in  thy  lore,— 
Keep  hiiti  that  waits  xofar  away." 

"  That  the  Indian,  without  the  aid  of  revelation,  should  have  arrived  at  8  fixed 
belief  in  tlie  existence  of  one  Supreme  Being,  has  ever  been  a  matter  of  sui-prise 
and  admiration.  *  *  Tliey  looked  up  to  ).,m  as  the  author  of  tlieir  being,  the 
source  of  their  temporal  blossiiigs,  and  the  future  dispenser  of  tlie  felicities  of 
t^U'ir  heavenly  home.  To  him  tlii'y  rendered  coMstant  thanks  a!i  1  homa;,'o  fo: 
the  changes  of  tliu  season.-;,  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  the  preservation  of  their  lives, 
*  *  and  to  Mm  they  addressed  their  prayers  for  the  continuance  of  his  protect- 
ing care."  League  of  the  Iroquois,  p.  155. 

*' Great  Spirit,  Master  of  our  lives;  Great  Spirit,  Master  of  all  Things  both 
visible  and  invisible ;  Groat  Spirit,  Master  cf  otlier  Spirits,  whether  Good  or 
Evil;  command  the  Good  Spirits  to  favor  thy  children.  ♦  *  Command  the  Evil 
Spirit  to  keep  at  a  distance  from  them. 

"  O  Great  Spirit,  keep  up  the  Strength  and  Courage  of  our  Warriors,  that  they 
may  be  able  to  stem  the  Fury  of  our  Enemies.  *  *  O  Great  Sjiirit,  Great  Spirit, 
liear  the  voice  of  the  Nation,  give  Ear  to  all  thy  Children,  and  remember  them  at 
alltimes."  Lahontan's  Voyagts, p,25. 


mi 

111 


m  ■ 


^'OTES. 


309 


Note  36. 


Pago  111. 


"Oneofth  "  -"^"if  guesfj'  -o- -.». 

m;  va.ate  his  l,,.,!  to  r,7'  ,   !.  ""  '"""''  «'>m.n,ior  hi;  7      ^     '    "^  "'"°  ^^  *'•« 

■^      'y  '■/'('  7iO(j„ois,  1).  327. 


Note  37. 


^-^^^^2:^:s:»"-'". 


^"t  .it  down  fo   a  ::;'""  V'"''^'"-'  »-'y  -ve     Z^t: ^,^' ■"''''  "->'  ^-'« 


Note  38. 


.'  ""'  Jij^eiinl  ears." 


Page  113. 


^  ■ -i-^nr,,  ears."  "        "• 

pa"  n.,:  on;;*:i;r;7 ''"  ^"'"^"'  ^'"^  -^  •>-  with  his   . 

heip«heH.oet:ec:n  "rtr  ^''  «"«  -.eivr  t^X^/'-"^' -'^ -nds  . 
—  "P  he  set«  ,,,::C  ;;,^t  '•  '^«'"---l  riant;ir'ea:;"a?r  *;■"''"  '^'"^ 
™n<,  until  the  beans  h  """"  "!'"»•     In  tho  t„      !     '      "^ '""""  """V 

'""'  "•  •"'■  °"" '"  '«t°:;';::r -■'■'■■«  "■"™ « I'oX:;::;'"^: 

B-«-Sc,„o„^„,V,LV.„.„. 
Note  39. 


"^^''»owyl,r,r,l,sson,',u,,^,^ 


The  corpse  Is  dressed  In  its  h„-f   ,  .  **t'*^  ^-1- 

"«vv  nioccasi,^  are  „ut  on      T.  ''"'''•^''-    ^^  '^  ^vrapped  In 

are  also  p„t  on.    hV.  l^!*  ,  ^  "  ^'•"^^"-''ami,  liea,!-,,,.     "^^"^/^  ^  "^^  '''""k^'t,  and 

-".'-tit^or^:::;;;^:!:  r^'-  -  p'"-a;:;;d:s "::,:'? '-"■•■-' 

i«  provided  with  a  i,-.,m,,       ,  ^^  "^  ^oruan,  that  is  «i      /    '  '""'^''*-''-  with  a 

•»«,V„l.,i.p.^^> 


Hi 


I,' 


m 


310 


NOTES. 


hi 


■tt'Vi 
in. 


hi 


?  ; 


■; 


a;; 


t; 


f-l^---^- 


i 


Mute  40. 


"0/  Kne-ha— Father,  fare-thef-well." 


Page  121. 


"  The  corjise  is  laid  in  public,  where  all  can  gather  around  it,  when  an  addrcas 
it)  in;i(lc,  iiartly  to  the  spectators,  describing  the  churnctcr  of  the  duccscd,  uud 
p.irtly  to  the  deceased  himself,  speaking  to  him  as  though  the  Orh-irh-ufj  or  eonl 
was  still  i)rcsont,  and  giving  directions  as  to  the  path  he  is  supposed  to  be  about 
to  tread  in  a  futtire  state."  Ihid. 

"  My  son,  listen  once  more  to  the  words  of  thy  mother.  Thoii  wert  brought 
into  life  with  her  pains.  Tliou  wert  nourished  with  her  life.  Hhe  has  attempt  id 
to  be  faithful  in  raising  thee  up.  Wlicn  tliou  wert  young  she  iovcd  theo  as  her 
life.  *  *  Thy  friends  and  relations  have  gathered  about  thy  body  to  look  upon 
thee  for  tlie  last  time.  *  *  Wo  part  now,  and  you  are  conveyed  from  my  siglit 
But  we  shall  soon  meet  again.  *  *  Then  we  shall  part  no  more.  Our  Malier 
has  called  you  to  his  home.  Thither  we  follow.  A<i-fio.' "Speech  of  a  Mothar 
over  her  dead  sou.  •  LeiKjue  of  the  Iroquois,  p.  175. 


Note  41. 


"Eiiititrdrice  in  the  mofher-breaxf 
W/oiujht  counuje  in  the  newly  born," 


Page  122. 


While  it  is  true  that  it  was  held  a  weakness  for  a  mother  to  give  way  to  an  j 
signs  of  pain  during  the  trying  ordeal  of  child-birtli,  it  must  also  be  remembere<l 
that  women  in  the  savage  state  are  comparatively  free  from  the  danger  and  suf- 
fering incident  to  civilized  life. 

"  Parturition,  with  the  Indian  female,  is  seldom  attended  with  severe  or  long- 
continued  suflferiug.  *  *  A  wile  has  been  known  to  sally  into  the  adjoining 
forest  in  quest  of  dry  limbs  for  tire-wood,  and  to  return  to  the  wigwam  with  her  ■ 
uew-boru  child,  placed  carefully  on  the  baek-load.  *  *  Their  exemption  from 
tlie  usual  sufl'eriugs  of  child-birth  may  be  said  to  be  the  general  condition  of  tlie 
Inmter  state,  and  one  of  the  few  advantages  of  it  which  tlie  woman  enjoys  over 
her  civilized  sister."  H.  K.  Schoolckaft,  Vol.  II.  p.  03. 


Note  42. 


" ]\'hat  is  there  more  than  home  and  lovef" 


Pago  123. 


"  I  have  witnessed  scenes  of  conjugal  and  parental  love  in  the  Indian's  wigwam 
from  which  I  have  often,  often,  thought  the  educated  white  man,  proud  of  his 
superior  civiliz.Uion,  might  learn  a  useful  lesson.  When  he  returns  from  hunt- 
ing, worn  out  with  fatigue,  having  tasted  nothing  since  dawn,  his  wife,  if  she  be 
a  good  wife,  will  take  off  his  moccasins  and  rei>lace  them  with  dry  ones,  and  will 
prepare  his  game  for  their  repast;  while  his  children  will  climb  upon  him,  and 
he  will  caress  them  with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  woman. 

"And  in  the  evening  the  Indian's  wigwam  is  the  scene  of  the  purest  domestic 
pleasures.  The  father  will  relate  for  the  amusement  of  the  wife,  and  for  tlio  in- 
struction of  his  children,  the  events  of  tlio  day's  hunt,  while  they  will  treasure  up 
every  word  that  falls,  and  which  furnishes  them  with  the  theory  of  the  art,  tlic 
practice  of  which  ir  to  beconit?  the  oceupiition  of  their  lives." 

Mbs.  Schoolckaft,    From  Unpublished  Notes. 


hf .' 


li\- 


NOTES. 


311 


Note  43. 


"Lit  with  the  rnirihty  CniinrH-flumc: 


Page  138. 


"  The  Kovemment  of  this  unicjue  republic  resided  wliolly  in  councilH.  IJy  couii- 
rilH  all  nui'stiouH  were  Hettled,  all  rt'f{ulatioii8  establinhed,- social,  reliKious,  mili- 
tary and  political.  The  war-path,  tlie  chaise,  tlie  (louiicil-tire;  -in  these  was  the 
life  of  tlie  Iroquois ;  and  it  is  hard  to  say  to  which  of  the  three  he  was  most  de- 
voted." Paukman's  .7ejt(/<7»( /■//  Aiiifriai. 


Note  44. 


'  Fifth  shall  in  the  Council  be." 


Page  IW). 


The  order  of  precedence  here  adopted  ift  that  given  by  Lewis  H.  Morgan  in  his 
Learjiif  of  the  /r(/(/i/(>i>i.  1  his  author,  poHsessiiit;,  an  he  did,  peculiar  facilitiew 
for  obtaining  a  correct  knowledge  of  Iroquois  liistory  and  traditions,  is  probably 
correct,  though  differing  with  both  Clark  and  Schoolcraft. 


Note  45. 


'You — an  from  your  lionxn  of  old- 
From  //ih  f(iir<  r  himl  e.ij/cl." 


Page  101. 


Tradition  informs  us  tliat  prior  to  their  occupation  of  centnil  New  York  the 
Irofpiois  were  located  upon  the  St.  Lawrence,  in  Canada,  and  that  tliey  lived  in 
sulijection  to  the  Adirondacks. 

"  After  they  had  multiplied  in  numliers  and  improved  by  experience,  they  made 
!in  attempt  to  secure  the  intlependent  possession  of  the  country  they  o('cui)ied; 
luit  having  been,  in  the  struggle,  overpowered  and  vanquislied  by  the  Adiron- 
dacks, they  were  compelled  to  retire  from  the  country  to  escape  extermination." 

Ltuyue  of  the  Iruqnois,  i>.  5. 


Note  46. 


"To  the  wigu'am'8  mat  ami  »hade 
IIuw  c(tii  he  a(/(iin  rr/iini 
TukiiKi  not  fhf  little  maid." 


Page  ICO. 


'■■  If  just  and  truthful  pictures  of  Indian  life  were  drawn,  in  connection  with 
the  civilized  population  of  America,  it  could  not  fail  to  excite  a  deep  in'erest  in 
his  fate.  What  is  wanted  is  to  show  tliat  the  Indian  has  a  lu'art.  Tliat  in  a  state 
of  repose  from  wars,  liis  bosom  iieats  with  affi'ction  and  hope,  and  fear,  i)re<!i8e- 
ly  like  other  varieties  of  the  human  race.  That  he  is  adhesive  and  r.-l.'able  in 
his  friendships.  Tliat  he  is  true  to  his  jiromises-  simple  in  his  reliances  and  be- 
liefs.   That  lie  is  afVectioiiate  to  his  kindred  while  tliey  live,  and  mourns  their 

loss  in  death  with  an  undying  sorrow.'' 

II.  U.  ScnooLcKAFT,  Vol.  T),  p.  4Ii), 


ii    i 


Note  47. 


"See,  his  cloudy  garment--^  all 
lias  he.  taken  from  tlit  >  un." 


Page  174. 


"  He  has  i. ikon  his  garmo'at  from  before  the  sun  and  caused  it  to  shine  with 
brightness  upon  us." 

See  Ued  .Tacket's  famous  speech  to  a  missionary;  /brake's  JJiO(jra/)hi/ and 
Jlinlonj,  p.  98. 


312 


NOTES. 


i 


m 


il 


Win     : 

In:  i 


I',' I'." 


■ 


Ht--- S 


Note  48.  "  T/if  snowy  parrtimcnt  drrsufil  and  wroiifjhl 

From  fjiral  Skan-u-do'x  hd'iry  li'uh'." 


Pago  177. 


"  Tlu!  practice  of  the  North  Americ»u  tribes,  of  drawing  figures  and  pictur-^a 
on  BkliiB,  treeB  aud  various  otlier  subHtauoes,  has  been  noticed  by  travelers  and 
writers  from  (ho  earliest  times.  *  *  Tll(■;^il  figures  r, ^present  ideas— w'.iolo  ide  -.s, 
—aud  their  relation  ou  a  scroll,  (;r  bark,  or  trci-,  or  ro.'ls,  discloses  a  coutiuuity  o. 
ideas.  *  *  Picture-writiug  is,  indeed,  the  litoraturo  oT  tho  Indian.  It  cjnn  k 
be  interpreted,  however  rudely,  without  letting  one  know  what  the  red  in  1 1 
tliinks  and  bi'lieves."  H.  U.  Schoolohaft,  Vol.  1.  p.  331). 

"  They  love  to  speakin  a  syinbolical  in:inn.'r,  uU  tlicir  symbols  being  drawn 
from  the  realm  of  nature.  *  *  l  once  saw  ii  liullalo  hide  covered  with  liguros  in 
the  style  of  children's  drawings,  which  represented  battles,  treaties  of  peace, 
aud  other  such  events  ;  tlu^  sun  and  the  moon,  trees  and  mountains,  and  riverri, 
tish  aud  birds,  and  all  kinds  of  animals,  haviiiLi;  their  part  in  the  delineations." 

Ilonint  of  the  New  World,  p.  47. 


Note  49.  "  In  cares  (if  State,  an  woman  skoiild 

S/ioii/'l  woman  hare  her  part  and  jilace 


Page  179. 


"  The  history  of  the  world  shows  that  it  ia  one  of  tho  tendencies  of  bravery  to 
cause  woman  to  be  respected,  and  to  assiuue  her  proper  rank  aud  influence  in  so- 
ciety. This  was  strikingly  manifest  in  the  history  of  the  Iroquois.  They  are 
the  only  tribes  in  America,  north  or  south,  so  far  ns  we  have  any  accounts,  who 
gave  to  women  a  conservative  i)ower  in  their  deliberations.  Tho  Iroquois  hki- 
trons  had  their  reiiresentatives  in  the  pubUc  couucils ;  aud  they  exercised  a  nega- 
tive, or  what  we  call  a  veto  ]>ower,  in  the  important  question  of  tho  declaration 
of  war.    They  had  the  right  also  to  interfere  iu  bringiu'/  about  a  peace." 

H.  R.  SCHOOLCUAFT,  Vol.  III.  p.  195. 

Tradition  says  tluit  at  the  great  Council,  wliich  resulted  in  the  formation  of  the 
League,  the  wonu'U  atteude<l,  and  it  preserves  tho  name  of  Ju-go-na-xa — The 
Wild  Cat— as  a  woman  of  unusual  power  that  took  part  in  its  deliberations;  aud 
to  whose  insight  aud  judgment,  as  we  may  infer,  is  due  the  liberal  provisions  c: 
this  forest-government  iu  favor  of  t'u!  equal  rights  of  the  sexes. 


Note  50. 


Page  ^.'i£. 


"In  h<r  all  titled  lineage,— 

Through  her  the  mrhem'a  kingly  line." 

"Not  the  least  remarkable  among  their  institutions,  was  that  which  couflncc 
the  transmission  of  the  titles,  rights  and  ])roi)erty  in  tho  female  line  to  the  e.v 
elusion  of  the  male.  *  *  ir  tlie  Deer  tribe  of  the  Cayugas,  for  example,  received 
a  sachemship  at  the  original  distribution  of  these  offices,  tho  descent  of  Bucli 
title  being  limited  to  the  female  line,  it  could  never  pass  out  of  the  tribe.  *  '■ 
By  the  operation  of  this  principle,  also,  tho  certainty  of  descent  iu  the  tribe  c. 
their  principal  chiefs,  was  tuxnirsvl  1  y  a  rule  infallible ;  for  tlic  rliil  1  must  be  th: 
son  of  its  mother,  althoujfh  not  necessarily  of  the  mother's  husband." 

League  of  the  Iroquois,  p.  M. 


NOTES. 


313 


Note  61. 


^^^"'-is:r^ 


PaRe  Ifll. 


Among  the  most  siuTci  I.  •    , 

'^^^^^^::^B^  

"» :r;:::''r''»-  -- 

That  then.  ,,,»s  aro  Mrou.h.  '   """"  "'"^•"  "  ^^•- 


Note  52. 


l'a«e  l«a. 


"As  the  lawH  and  usaRPs  of  fi.„  ^ 
tation...  ""^  ^^ampuu,,..  and  was  required  To    """'""'"'■''^'  ^^'^  -'-H- 

■'        ^   ''^'^  r>-0(j„ois,  ],.  121; 


Note  53. 


'^:-;«r:rc-t.'^..« 


J'agp  187. 


^^^^^^:^^Tr^'^  "''  •"  ^-"^  -  -t.av.,ant 

"•-ewa«af„.„t  ^t  the  .  ■  Lr^'f  "'■"'^'  -•"«^'-  also.  '  ',  "'"•"*^- -""i" 

«--t.e.t.de.a.d;:;----;^^^wt.^;^ 


Note  54. 


"'':'/"  nil  Hip  1,(1,1^  It. 

'"  '^"'"'-miU-ha  bore." 


Ix'.sl 


^'a^e  188. 


I     ' 


3U 


XOTKS. 


Note  55. 


"Then  forth  thf  irnl/hiff  pipr  wan  hrnnghh"         Page  189. 


"  Whcrt'vtT  tlio  Iiidiiiii  t,'oi  f ,  ii>  ptiiro  and  war,  and  wliatcvor  he  docH,  his  iiiim 
i.M  liiH  conHtaut  cDiuiJanion.  \Ui  draws  cousolation  from  it  in  liuni^cr,  want  and 
iniHl'ortune."  And  wlu-n  lio  is  iiroHix-roiis  and  liajipy,  "  it  is  tin' pipr  tn  whii:li 
he  appeals,  as  if  every  pull'  of  tlio  weed  were  au  oblatiou  to  the  (ireat  Spirit." 

Ihltl,  Vol.  II.  p.  (i'J. 


Note  66. 


I 


h'"\ 


m 


I' 


II- 


"Slill  pilinij  high  ihc  Klal-f  and  bet 
of  hfdiikt/K,  ifidjioiiti,  liiiik(tx~(il/." 


I'ai,'.?  WX 


"Ofalltho  Indian's  soeial  sport.s  the  flncHt  and  graudcst  la  the  ball  play.  I 
niif,'lit  call  it  a  noble  (j;anio,  and  I  am  surprised  liow  tln*e  savaKcs  aitain  such 
peri'ection  in  it.  Nowhere  in  the  world,  excepting,  i>erliaps,  amoug  tlie  Knh'lish 
ttud  8om»  of  the  Italian  races,  in  the  graceful  and  manly  gaum  ol  ball  played  so 
j)assionately,  and  on  so  larf,'e  a  scale.  They  often  play  village  against  village,  or 
tribe  against  tribe.  Hundreds  of  players  asstauble,  and  the  wares  and  goodH 
ottered  as  prizcH  often  reach  a  value  of  a  thousand  dollars,  or  more." 

Kit  I- hi  (la  mi,  p.  HS. 


Nob 


"Flee  in  Ire.mldiiuj  tiiror,  when 
On  ihe  n'<ir-j»ifh  hold  tin  ij  nee 
AijiKin-nsrhi-oni  men," 


Page  201. 


Golden  says.  "  I  have  been  told  by  old  men  in  New  Euglaud,  who  remembered 
the  time  when  the  Mohawks  made  war  on  their  Indians,  that  as  soon  as  a  single 
Mohawk  was  discovered  in  their  couutrj',  their  India. .«  raised  a  cry  from  hill  to 
hill,  'AMoliHwk!  a  Mohawk ! '  upon  which  they  fled  like  sheep  before  wolves, 
without  attenii)tiug  to  make  the  least  resistance." 

Note  58.  "From  example  wise  and  yiiod  Page  203. 

Shall  they  to  all  fjreatnenn  r/row, — 

To  a  Miiihtij  lirothei  hooil ; 
And  all  men  be  bettered  so." 

"  It  is  a  memorable  fact  that  tlie  Iropiois  were  so  strongly  impressed  with  the 
wisdom  (if  their  system  of  confederation,  tliat  tlii'y  publicly  rc^commended  a 
similar  I'nion  to  the  IJritish  Colonies.  In  th,^  important  conferences  at  Lancas- 
ter, in  1774,  Canuas-sa-te-go,  a  respected  Bachem,  expressed  this  view  to  the 
connnissioners  of  Pennsylvania,  Virginia,  and  Maryland :  '  Our  wise  forefathers 
estabUshed  union  and  amity  betwien  the  Five  Nations.  Tliis  hits  given  us  great 
weight  and  autliorlty  with  our  neighboring  nations.  We  arc  u  powerful  confed- 
eracy, and  by  ol)serving  the  sanu;  methods  our  wise  forefathers  have  taken,  you 
will  acfpiire  fres'i  strength  and  powpr.  Therefor?  I  counsel  you,  wliate-er  befalls 
you,  lu'ver  In  I'.iH  out  witli  one  anolliei'.' 

"  No  sa:; ;  of  the  briglit  diys  of  Grevc^  could  li.ve  more  truly  appreliended  the 
pecrot  of  their  own  power  and  success." 

II.  R.  Schoolcraft,  Vol.  III.  p.  183. 


h!-| 


yoTi!;s. 


315 


Note  5H. 


Pag<\  2;J0. 


groat  c-oura.e  un.l  w      '       '"'"'''■'  "''0^-«  «»!  others    oa.t 
pipe,  an.l  ro„,],.r,.,l  co„„,,;,      ""  ^''"^  ^«"'>'«J  Hitti,,,,  ■„  ,      '  "'""^'■''t '">"H,.|f 

tJ^rteeutUOt-o-ta.-,/'       ,::X^^^;''"  ^-i^'in.  o'tn..!:  .  l":'  '^  ^^■-••.in.e..a,..e 


Note  CO. 


•«.ue..  „,„,  .,,.;„"*„';7  "'"""■■'■ ».o ,,  ,,,;;';■■•• ""  ""*  ■•"■  '■■ 

"•'"■"""•'""■'.  Vol.  n,;„.  „,, 


Note  CI. 


.-.. ..-SS~-=;-^    ■— 

Ti-«avi„u. ..«;;';;:'!;''" """"  ^" '-  c;!at.;,:rr" '''"'"'•  ^"''"*^ 

"  If  the  Great  (Snirit  h-. ,  •  *  "-''"'  ""••  »'« 

C-VMP.K.L-.S/.,/-      'J.*".'' "f  "•'■"•  father^.- 

"(Jli    UriHI      ^    •  ,     . 


(■<(. 


^ago  232. 


310 


NOTES. 


If'*. 


m 


I  ?  t  :-  . 

h 


Note  (13.  "f.'rnniffnf/.  er  irlnf, 

Do  sttylch  you rxflj — Xe-tne-nho  brave 


Pa«o  276. 


All  objects  In  the  material  world  belug  endowed,  In  the  Iiidluti'H  mind,  with  a 
Ilvlnf<  uiiil  intellif^ent  Hpirit,  bird**,  rei>tlle8  and  bcaHtH,  and  even  inuniniate  ol>- 
JectH  iiiii  ofli-n  ad<lreHHfd  uh  ])r<)tlier  or  Kfindfatlicr.  ees  of  the  forent,  the 

Rtoiu'H  that  lie  itloni^  hlH  ])utliwiiy,  huvo  euru  uix'n  .a  pruyern,  uud  wUuhi' 

jiowcr  he  InvokeH  In  the  hour  of  peril. 


Mote  (14. 


I'age  'ifn. 


"()iir  hearts  are  good,  but  do  not  »etk 
For  more  to  (jtt  our  little  land," 

"Ourconntry  was  given  tons  by  the  Great  Bpirit,  who  gave  it  to  us  to  hunt 
upon,  to  make  our  coriillcMH  ujion,  to  Ii\ii  U)")n,  and  to  inako  down  our  bedn 
upon  when  we  die.  And  he  would  never  l'or(,'ive  ns  phonld  we  barKuin  It  away." 
— Hpeceh  of  Me-ley-a  ut  Chlcajio  In  1H'21.         Foud'h  Ilixliirij  and  liidijrajilnj. 

"  My  reanon  tcaeluH  iiu;  that  Id  ml  viinnot  be  nn.'d.  The  Great  Hjjirit  gave  it  to 
hi«  i'hildren  to  live  upon,  and  to  enltivato  so  far  us  is  ueceHsary  for  their  Buh- 
slHtenee;  and  Bo  lonjj  aH  they  oc('Ui>y  and  enltivate  it,  they  have  the  ri^'ht  to  the 
soil ;  but  if  they  voluntarily  liiive  if,  tlu-n  any  other  people  have  a  right  to  Bottle 
upon  it.    Nothing  cuu  bo  sold  but  such  thimjs  as  cau  bo  carried  away." 

liLACK  n.wvK. 


Ui.. 


817 


VOCABULARY. 


A-MKKK', 

A-QtAN-US-ci,,.,, 
A  IKKSK'-A, 

C'nEE'-MAU.N, 
ClIEBI-A'  Uos. 
J^A-niX'-DA, 

J)»)-nr-Air  -To^ 

DUN-KA-D(W ' , 
E-fillE-A' 
i^WA-YKA', 

Es-CON-AW'-BAW, 
GlTCll'K  Gr'x   KK, 

<J^USir-KE'.WAt 
I-A'-OO, 

JlK-ON'-SIs, 

«^n'  -suo, 
Kabi-box-ok'-ka, 

IVAII'-KAH, 

Kah-sau'-git, 

IvEY-OSUK', 

Kax'-aa, 
Ke-xei'' 

Ke-wau-xee  ' , 

Kee-way'-din, 

Ke-kaii-dau'-nong, 

Kl-UA'-DEE, 

Ko'-Ko-Ko'-no, 
Kne'-hah, 


m, 


The  beaver. 
L'nitfd  P  .  Mo. 
Tlie  squirrel. 
Tlio  j)anilicT. 
A  canoe. 

';,''"  f  •"^''-  •'»  ^ « ^--i  of  Souls. 

The  trout. 
The  bittern. 
Yes. 

Lullaljy. 
The  ^lississippi, 
Ty.ike  Superior. 
The  darkness. 
A  great  story-teller. 
The  j)ike. 
The  fox. 

The  Js"orth  Wind. 
The  crow. 
Winter. 

The  sea-gull 
Maid. 

The  War-eagle, 

The  pranie-lien. 

The  Home-wind. 

The  lizard. 
A  river. 
The  owl. 
My  father. 


11^ 


1 


818 

• 

VOCAniTLAIir. 

Ku-HA'-GO, 

The  forest. 

KUN-TA-SOO ' , 

The  Game  of  Plum-slont's. 

KvVAN-0-SnAISH    -TA, 

Groat  snal-f. 

K\VAN-RUN-OE-A'-0()SII 

Great  '   ,irg«'<)n. 

KVVA-KA-UE', 

Tlic  wood-pecker. 

Lkak-Moon, 

May. 

31  a' -MA, 

The  red-heuded  wood-pcckfr. 

31  AUNG, 

The  loon. 

Mk-i>a, 

3I(;dicim'  ■^Ia^,  or  Priest. 

^Ie-sha-way', 

The  elk. 

3IUDJK-KE'-\VIS, 

Th(!  West  Wind. 

Minne-wa'-wa, 

A  pleasant  sound,  a^  of  the  wind. 

MO'-SA, 

The  moose. 

Ne-BA-NAW  '  -BAIQS, 

Water  Spirits. 

Ne'-qio, 

The  otter. 

Ne-ne-moosh'-a, 

Sweetheart. 

O-'AII, 

The  wind. 

0()II-WK-SE', 

The  plieasant. 

0(iU-JfE'-TA, 

The  pine  tree. 

0  JI8-1ION '  -DA, 

The  stars. 

O'-KAII, 

The  snow. 

0-KWA-UO', 

The  wolf 

O-ME'-ME, 

The  pigeon. 

On  -ODE  IIOK'-WB, 

3Ien  surpassing  all  others. 

0-N0K'-8A, 

The  bass. 

O '  -NUST, 

The  Indian  corn,  3Iaize. 

O-WAU-AI'-GUT, 

Death. 

Pau-pck-kee'-wis, 

A  trickster. 

PrCK-WuDj'-IES, 

The  little  men;  Fairies. 

SaiI    -WAH, 

Tlie  perch. 

Saw-kaw.(2UAN', 

The  death-whoop 

Scho-ta-sa'-min, 

The  beau. 

yOGAL'l/lAJir 


310 


"\^  I 


Se-BOW-Isu'-A, 

Sua  w. SHAW, 

SlI()\v.o.\-i).v'.sK|.; 
SOAN-OK-TA'-iiA, 

Snr.N'-oii-ijjs, 
Ska.v-o '.ij,,^ 

SO'-KA, 

'"^O-IIA-UT', 

^O-lIAui', 

ll-O'-TO, 
"O'-TEM. 

Unk-ta-ue', 

U.\o-wcr., 

Wa'.jjuxAn'uno, 
"VVa-be.vva'.^v;;^ 

Wa-wOx\.ais'.sa, 
Wa-wa, 

WAMl"-UAJt, 

Wau'-jjos, 
Wau-he-zek' 

"Wo-NE'-DA, 

Wa-ziia-wand', 

Yek'-wai, 

Yo'noxd, 

Yo-NON'-TO, 
Yo-YO-IIOX'-TO 

YoNo'-n-E, 
*  The  outer  column  nio.tly 


A  rivulet. 
Tlie  Spring. 
TJic  swallow. 
The  Soiitli  Wind. 

Ti)estroni,'-J],.ar(e(l. 
TIk!  (liver,  or  grebe. 
TJic  (leer 
Tlio  (luck. 
Tlic  turlicy. 

A  lie  .sni{)e. 
Cross  Lake. 

Tl.o  Indian's  Heraldic  emhU-nxs. 

ilioGodofwate-. 

Tlio  turtle. 

The  Mondng  Star. 

The  white  goose. 

The  whij)p,,orwilI. 

Tile  wild  goose. 

S|n'.i-  of  heads,    also  woven  into 

,,'•""•        n'^'^<^-      See  Note  as 
Ihe  swan. 

The  Moon. 

TheMakiToftlic.  \V(,rld. 
TJie  hear. 

A  mountain. 

A  hill. 

A  stream. 

Woman. 

Algomiuii,,  ,1.0  inner  Iro(iuois 


ART    LIFE 

AND 

OTHER     IM)  1<:MS, 

BY  BENJAMIN  ilATKAWAY. 


PUICE    $1.00, 


Sccorul  TliDiisftud   Rerised. 

S.  (\  GRIGGS  iO  CO.,  CHICAGO. 

Flll  Gilt,  $1.25. 


pit 


it 


ill 


oprxroxs  of  the  phess. 

".\  now  book  by  a  new  author,  at  Ip.-iHt  Ufw  to  lis,  but  oiio  who  f^iveH  nn  poeiiis 

of  a  jmre  cliiiraetcr  iiiul  of  a  high  order A  book  of  greater  poetic 

merit  haa  uot  appeared  for  years  past." — 5/.  Louis  Christian  Advocdte. 

"  '.Vrt-Lifo  and  Other  Poems '  abnost  places  Mr.  Hathaway  on  an  equal  stand- 
ing with  the  most  popular  poet.s  of  the  couutry." — cidcngo  Times. 

"  Some  of  the  shorter  lyrics  woul.l  do  credit  to  famed  pens." — Boston  Trareler. 

•'  While  wo  should  pass  many  of  these  poems  by  as  unattractive  at  a  first  glance, 
a  little  peep  here  and  there  eonvinces  us,  tliat  the  writer  is  not  only  i)Ossessed  of 
the  true  inspiration,  but  that  ho  is  competent  to  express  hia  thoughts  in  felicit- 
ous language," — I  iilir-Ocedn, 

"  The  reading  public  will  find  it  amply  tit  to  hold  its  place  among  American 
poems." — i^ninrij  Wlii'j. 

"  His  name  is  a  new  one  in  the  literary  world,  but  if  this  little  book  is  an  index 
of  his  power,  it  is  destined  to  become  widely  known." — Peoria  'J'raiisrrij)/, 

"  .  .  His  writings  indicate  talent  of  a  high  order.  There  is  much  true  poetry— 
beautiful  thought  in  beautiful  language— in  the  book." — Jacksonville  .Journal. 

"  Many  of  the  poems  are  gems,  and  contain  passages  that  would  do  credit  to 
Drydeu,  whom  his  style  somewhat  resembles." — Bay  City  Daily  Tribiuic. 

"The  author  of  this  volume  has  poetic  genius.  There  are  many  passages,  in 
diftorent  ijoems,  of  surpassing  beauty." — .S7.  Louis  Ctiilral  Baptist. 

"  The  collection  will  be  very  welcome  to  those  who  love  quiet,  home  and  flre- 
Bide  poetry." — CU-rilaial  Herald. 

"  Mr.  Hathaway  has  undoubtedly  poetic  inspiration  and  a  broad  and  fertile  im- 
agination. .  .  .  His  poems  are  of  a  class  which  show  culture  and  genius,  and 
have  the  merits  of  originality,  fervor,  imagination  aud  truth." — Sacramento 
Jiecord  Union. 


it  n 
fli 


OPINIOXS  OF  THE  PRESS. 


^'  Matured  ami  finished  in  Construction." — N.  C.  Inuepenuent. 


"  This  is  a  volume  of  poems  liy  a  new  poet— and  we  nso  this  name  in  its  true 
Bpirituul  and  artistic  sense.  The  autlior  starts  up  like  a  bird  from  Pome  wood- 
land seclusion— soaring  oq  strong  wings  and  singing  new  songs,  and  lie  must 
attract  attention.  ...  If  a  critical  reader  wore  to  open  the  book  carelessly  at 
any  page  and  read  a  poem,  his  interest  would  inevitably  be  awakened  to  such  an 
extent  that  ho  would  turn  to  the  title-i):ige  to  discover  the  author.  There  lie 
would  tiud  au  nn'.;nowu  name  in  literature,  and  he  would  bo  infinitely  surprised. 
Then  in  the  sjurit  of  a  discoverer  he  would  read  every  poem  in  the  book  and  con- 
tinually wouder  where  this  fiw,?et  and  acconri'.lshed  singer  could  have  been  hiding 
him.self  so  long.  .  .  .  Hatliawuy  is  not  a  crude  versifier.  He  has  been  long  iu 
study  aud  practice  somewliere.  IIj  is  a  master  of  vcr.-iilicatioii  and  embodies  his 
thouglit  iu  beautiful  forms.  They  are  new  forms  too,  and  not  lauta.stical  either. 
The  flow  of  tlie  verses  is  always  iu  jierfect  harmony  with  the  poetic  iilea.  Tliey 
sometimes  come  in  torrents  und  sweep  into  an  expa;i  ;o  of  br<)a>l  thouglit,  which 
mirrors  tlio  calm  of  nature  and  tlio  repose  of  the  sympatliiziiig  soul  that  is  sing- 
ing its  song  for  relief  from  its  fullness  of  music  and  power.  Tlie  book  is  a 
hymiKul  prayer  for  jiower,  and  tlio  su'.istance  of  the  prayer  is  work.  The  artistic 
longing,  the  potent  aspiration,  is  answered  in  trut!  song.  'Art-Life'  is  in  the 
key  of  IJyrou's  Childe  Ifnrold,  sn  far  nstlio  relL'Ctive  passages  cm  form  a  i):iral- 
lel.  The  sevjral .' Voices  from  Natur;;'  aro  iu  Shelley's  i)ul'ely  spiritual  tone. 
Thus  these  songs  of  a  new  poet  remind  one  of  tLe  qualities  of  some  of  the  old 
singers,  whose  voices  forever  echo  i:i  our  e  irs.  And  tliis  genuine  singer  of  I^it- 
tlo  Prairie  Roude,  Michigan,  will  certainly  be  heard  from  agaiu." — St.  Louis 
Jiepublican.  ■ 

"A  Michigan  i)0(t,  worthy  of  the  name." — Grand  Rapids  Evening  Post. 

"Throughout  these  records  of  a  (luiet  country  life,  are  spattered  gems  of 
poetry,  thought  and  sentiment  that  will  well  repay  perusal  and  possession  of  t!ie 
volume.      A  forest  ranil)le  or  au  aimless  stroll  upon  the  beaeli  would  be  enriched 

by  the  companionsliip  wliicli  many  of  tliese  sliort  poems  might  furnisli 

One  sentiment  runs  through  all  tlie  i)oeuis— the  glory  and  reward  of  labor  -de- 
velopment, -Art  taken  iu  its  broadest  sense,— Creation I.ove  is 

tlio  inspiration  of  Art,  and  Art  the  destined  nieaua  for  tlio  attainment  of  pertect- 
uess." — Purl  Huron  Times. 

"  While  it  may  be  too  soon  to  say  that  a  new  poet  has  appeared,  it  is  very  cer- 
tain that  the  poems  comprising  tliis  volume  are  of  more  tliau  ordinary  merit. 
Tliey  are  characterized  by  smoothness  of  versilicaMon,  a  felicity  of  expression 
elegance  of  language  and  beauty  ot  imagery.  Some  of  the  descriptive  iMiems 
would  do  credit  to  jioets  of  estal)lished  reputation,  so  clear  and  l)eautif  ul  are  the 
pictures  preaeuted ;  wliilo  others  display  a  vigor  of  tliought  and  expressiou  quite 
rare  in  tlie  poetry  of  the  day.  The  poems,  while  good  iu  themselves,  are  a  iirom- 
iso  of  better  to  coiiie."-~L' Ct/tiny  Wiacuusin. 


